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FAITH AND LIFE 
SERMONS 



BY 

GEORGE TYBOUT PURVES, D.D., LL.D, 

LATE PASTOR OF THE FIFTH AVENUE PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH, NEW YORK 
SOMETIME PROFESSOR IN PRINCETON THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY 



WITH AN INTRODUCTORY NOTE 
By benjamin B. WARFIELD, D.D., LL.D. 

PROFESSOR IN PRINCETON THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY 




PHILADELPHIA 

PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION 
AND SABBATH-SCHOOL WORK 

1902 



THE LIBRARY OF 

CONGRESS, 
T vo Copies Received 

my, 16 1902 

Copyright entry 

CLASS^ XXa No. 
S /97^ 
COPY B. 



Copyright, 1902, by 

THE TRUSTEES OF THE 

PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION 
AND SABBATH-SCHOOL WORK 



TO 



ALL WHO LOVE THE GOSPEL 

AND ESPECIALLY TO 

THOSE WHO HAVE ENJOYED THE PRIVILEGE OF 
HEARING IT FROM THE LIPS OF 

THE GREAT PREACHER 

SOME OF WHOSE SERMONS ARE HERE PRINTED 
THIS VOLUME IS DEDICATED 

BY THOSE TO WHOM HAS BEEN ENTRUSTED ITS PREPARATION 
FOR THE PRESS 



ELIJAH RICHARDSON CRAVEN JOHN DE WITT 
BENJAMIN BRECKINRIDGE WARFIELD 
WILLIAM PARK ARMSTRONG Jr 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 

INTRODUCTION by B. B. Warfield, D.D., LL.D vii 

I. THE DISAPPOINTMENT OF THE WORLD WITH 

CHRIST I 

He hath no form nor comeliness ; and when we shall 
see Him, there is no beauty that we should desire 
Him. — Isaiah liii. 2. 

II. THE ALPHA AND THE OMEGA 21 

I am Alpha and Omega, — Revelation xxii. 13. 

III. WHAT THINK YE OF CHRIST? 43 

What think ye of Christ ? — Matt. xxii. 42. 

IV. TOUCHING CHRIST 63 

And besought Him that they might only touch the 
hem of His garment : and as many as touched were 
made perfectly whole. — Matthew xiv. 36. 

V. BEHOLD YOUR GOD 85 

O Zion, that bringest good tidings, get thee up into 
the high mountain ; O Jerusalem, that bringest good tid- 
ings, lift up thy voice with strength ; lift it up, be not 
afraid ; say unto the cities of Judah, Behold your God ! 
— Isaiah xl. 9. 

VI. THE KEEPER OF ISRAEL 105 

Behold, He that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber 
nor sleep. — Psalm cxxi. 4. 

VII. THE FATHER OF THE PRODIGAL 123 

But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw 
him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, 
and kissed him. — Luke xv. 20. 

V 



vi 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 



VIII. WORKING OUT SALVATION 141 

Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling : 
for it is God which worketh in you both to will and to do 
of His good pleasure. — Phihppians ii. 12, 13. 

IX. UNFINISHED BUILDINGS 159 



For which of you, intending to build a tower, sitteth 
not down first, and counteth the cost, whether he have 
sufficient to finish it ? Lest haply, after he hath laid the 
foundation, and is not able to finish it, all that behold it 
begin to mock him, saying. This man began to build, and 
was not able to finish. ... So likewise, whosoever he 
be of you that forsaketh not all that he hath, he cannot 
be My disciple. — Luke xiv. 28-30, 33. 

X. STRENGTH AND BEAUTY 177 

Strength and beauty are in His sanctuary. — Psalm 
xcvi. 6. 

XL THE FALSE AND THE TRUE MEASUREMENT 195 
But they measuring themselves by themselves, and 
comparing themselves among themselves, are not wise. 
— 2 Corinthians x. 12. 

XII. ENOCH 215 

And Enoch walked with God : and he was not ; for 
God took him. — Genesis v. 24. 

XIII. THE WISE WOMAN OF TEKOAH 235 

For we must needs die, and are as water spilt on the 
ground, which cannot be gathered up again ; neither 
doth God respect any person [or and God doth not cast 
away a soul] ; yet [but] doth He devise means, that His 
banished be not expelled from Him, — 2 Samuel xiv. 14. 

XIV. JOHN THE BAPTIST 253 

I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness. Make 
straight the way of the Lord, as said the prophet Esaias. 
— John i. 23. 

He must increase, but I must decrease. — John iii. 30. 



CONTENTS 



vii 



PAGE 

XV. SIMON PETER'S BROTHER 271 

Andrew, Simon Peter's brother. — John i. 40. 

XVI. A NOBLE LIFE 289 

For I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my 
departure is at hand. I have fought a good fight, I have 
finished my course, I have kept the faith. — 2 Timothy 
iv. 6, 7. 

XVII. GOD'S EDUCATION OF HIS CHILDREN ... 307 
As an eagle stirreth up her nest, fluttereth over her 
young, spreadeth abroad her wings, taketh them, beareth 
them on her wings : so the Lord alone did lead him, 
and there was no strange god with him. — Deuteronomy 
xxxii. II, 12. 

XVIII. OUT OF THE DEPTHS 323 

Out of the depths have I cried unto Thee, O Lord. 
— Psalm cxxx. I. 

XIX. MANY MANSIONS 341 

In my Father's house are many mansions : if it were 
not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place 
for you, — ^John xiv. 2. 

XX. THE JUDGMENT 359 

And the heavens shall declare His righteousness : for 
God is judge Himself. — Psalm 1. 6. 



INTRODUCTORY NOTE 

The sermons printed in this volume have been taken, 
practically at random, from the hundreds of manu- 
script sermons left by Dr. Purves. They are thought 
to represent fairly his ordinary preaching; or, as it 
would be better to say, his ordinary preparation for 
preaching. For Dr. Purves did not prepare these 
manuscripts to be read or verbally recited in the 
pulpit. His actual preaching was eminently free, rest- 
ing on careful preparation, but depending much also 
on the mental action of the moment. Part of his 
preparation consisted, however, in writing out the 
sermon which he purposed to deliver. This writing 
was very rapidly done; though it resulted in put- 
ting a complete sermon on the paper, it can scarcely 
be said to have put it there completely. The manu- 
scripts are rough in the extreme, crowded with ab- 
breviations, and bear obvious marks of having been 
written merely to fix the preacher's thoughts. The 
sermons drawn from them cannot pretend to be such 
sermons as Dr. Purves preached. Much less can they 
be supposed to be such sermons as he would have 
been content permanently to fix in print. They repre- 
sent rather Dr. Purves' sermons as they first presented 

ix 



X 



INTR OD UCTOR V NO TE 



themselves to his mind, — the first impressions, which 
he afterwards adjusted, filled out, and enriched for 
their oral presentation. He would have felt it neces- 
sary very thoroughly to revise, or rather wholly to 
rewrite them, before they were committed to type. 

A certain injustice is therefore inevitably done Dr. 
Purves' memory as a preacher by printing these ex- 
temporaneous first-drafts of his sermons. Neither in 
literary form, nor in homiletical structure, nor even, 
perhaps, in refigious teaching (if at least our mind is 
set on proportion and precision of statement), can they 
be held to represent fairly his remarkably clear, strong, 
and rich preaching. Those who have been charged 
with the duty of deciding whether to print or not to 
print, have, in these circumstances, naturally felt much 
hesitation. But Dr. Purves is gone from us ; the ser- 
mons as he preached them, or as he would have 
printed them, are beyond our reach. It seems a pity, 
however, that his voice should be wholly stilled. Even 
in the extemporaneous form in which they appear in 
the manuscripts, these sermons seem to us remarkable 
sermons, and if not fully representative of Dr. Purves' 
powers, nervertheless not unworthy of his talents, and 
quite capable, as vital presentations of the essentials 
of Christian truth, not only of embalming his memory 
worthily, but of serving further that Gospel to which 
he enthusiastically gave his life, and for the advance- 
ment of which he would have been more than willing 



INTRODUCTORY NOTE 



xi 



to sacrifice much. We give this small selection of 
them to the world with the conviction that there is a 
blessing in them, which we should be sorry to with- 
hold from the wider circles which have not enjoyed 
the privilege of hearing the living preacher's voice. 

It seems fitting to prefix some account of the life 
and work out of which these sermons came. 

George Tybout Purves was born in Philadelphia on 
the 27th of September, 1852. As every Scotchman 
would know from the name itself, the family was of 
Berwickshire origin ; and Berwick men bearing it have 
won a place for it both in the secular and in the re- 
ligious history of Scotland. It was thence that about 
the middle of the eighteenth century that John Purves 
came, who, emigrating to America, and establishing 
himself as a merchant, first at Bridgeton, N. J., and 
then at Philadelphia, became the ancestor of Dr. 
Purves. He was a man of convictions, having also 
the courage of his convictions, for which — being 
unfortunately a " Tory " — he was called upon to 
suffer. In West Jersey he found a wife for himself 
in a Huguenot maiden, bearing the great name of 
Anne Marot. Their son, Alexander, married, in 
Margaret Colesberry, a descendant of Swen Coles- 
berg, schoolmaster in the Swedish colony at Wil- 
mington. Thus, Dr. Purves' father, William Purves, 
the issue of this marriage, was typically American in 
the complicated mixture of good strains of blood in his 



xii 



INTR OD UC TOR V NO TE 



veins. His mother, Anna Kennedy, was of pure 
North Irish descent, from County Antrim. But her 
Presbyterianism was no more deeply inbred than that 
of her husband. John Purves had identified himself 
from the first with the First Presbyterian Church of 
Philadelphia, of which he was a trustee. His son, 
Alexander, succeeded him in that office, and also sub- 
sequently served the church in the higher duties of 
the eldership ; and his son, William, after him adorned 
the latter responsible office through many years. 
Sprung from this Godly stock. Dr. Purves was born 
into an ideal Christian household, which " abounded," 
as one who, as its pastor, knew it well, describes it, 
" with the sweetest Christian amenities and sanctities." 

It was one of the felicities of his life that he was not 
compelled to leave the goodly and Godly fellowship 
of this home to obtain his education. His primary 
schooling was received in the " classical institute " of 
a notable schoolmaster, the Rev. Dr. John Wylie 
Faires, "the last in the long succession of Scotch-Irish 
schoolmasters to whom Philadelphia and the common- 
wealth owe so much." He is described by one of 
his teachers of this period as small and quiet, little ag- 
gressive in his work, and perhaps not reveahng his full 
ability as it was afterw^ard called forth by circum- 
stances, fond withal of outdoor sports, especially of 
cricket, in which he was proficient. " I remember 
well," this teacher adds, " his striking face, his modest 



INTRODUCTORY NOTE 



xiii 



demeanor, his correct recitations, his eagerness to 
learn." At the age of sixteen he entered the Univer- 
sity of Pennsylvania, whence he was graduated in 1872. 
His career in the university was a distinguished one. 
He seems to have won nearly all the prizes in oratory 
offered ; he was also a prize-man in philosophy, and, in 
his freshman year, in Greek, though after that the classi- 
cal prizes went to others. When his university course 
was over, he devoted an additional year to the diligent 
study of languages and general literature. Dr. Herrick 
Johnson, his pastor at this time, describes him as al- 
ready " giving sign and token of all the characteristics 
that marked his subsequent career : ready, nimble, ver- 
satile, scholarly, genial, and gentle, — a winsome fellow." 

He had made a public profession of his faith just 
after completing his fourteenth year (October 5, 1866); 
and soon after graduating from the university, he 
reached the conviction (autumn of 1872) that he 
should give himself to the work of the ministry. In 
the autumn of 1873, therefore, he entered the Theo- 
logical Seminary at Princeton, and thus came into 
relations with an institution with which, as student, 
director, professor, and then director again, he retained 
a close connection for the rest of his life. It is safe to 
say that no more faithful pupil ever sat upon the hard 
benches of the " Old Seminary " class-rooms. He neg- 
lected nothing. He accomplished with distinction 
every task that was set him. His easy mastery of the 



xiv 



INTR on UCTOR Y NO TE 



subjects embraced in the curriculum was, however, 
only one of the ways in which he exhibited a vigor 
and a richness of mental life that won from the first 
the respect of his preceptors and the admiration 
of his comrades. He was by common consent pro- 
nounced the best preacher in his class ; and none will 
contest his claim to have been the best of good com- 
panions. The somewhat meagre opportunities for 
extra-curriculum work then afforded by the seminary, 
he took, of course, full advantage of. These included 
rather extended studies in Shemitic Philology, under 
the instruction of Dr. J. F. McCurdy, then John C. 
Green Instructor in Hebrew. But they particularly 
embraced continuous and loving study of the New 
Testament, under the instruction of Dr. C. W. Hodge. 
He was graduated from the seminary in 1876, but re- 
mained in connection with it an additional year, en- 
gaged in advanced work in Biblical Literature and 
Biblical Theology under the direction of Drs. Caspar 
Wistar Hodge and William Henry Green. 

He profited, of course, from all the instruction he 
received in the seminary, as only a mind like his, at 
once docile and independent, receptive and fertile, could 
profit. But the formative influence that was exerted on 
him came from Dr. Caspar Wistar Hodge. What he 
felt he owed to the inspiring personality and the 
impressive teaching of this wide-minded scholar, and 
the affectionate gratitude with which he bore him in 



INTRODUCTORY NOTE 



XV 



life-long memory, he himself has told us, only last 
spring, in the eulogy he pronounced, at the unveiling 
of a tablet erected to the memory of his revered in- 
structor, in the chapel of Princeton Seminary . Proba- 
bly no other of his teachers exercised so moulding an 
influence upon him ; although he always acknowledged 
a debt also to the Rev. Dr. Charles Porterfield Krauth, 
who had imbued his youthful mind with his philoso- 
phy at the University of Pennsylvania. He gradually 
drifted away from Dr. Krauth's characteristic tenets, 
however, whereas Dr. Hodge's method and spirit 
became ever more and more his own. 

In the meantime Mr. Purves had been licensed by 
the Presbytery of Philadelphia to preach the Gospel 
(May 2, 1876), and immediately on completing his grad- 
uate studies in the seminary, he was ordained by the 
Presbytery of Chester (April 27, 1877), and installed 
pastor of the little church at Wayne. Even in that 
somewhat retired parish he quickly drew attention, 
and accordingly, when the Broadway Avenue Church 
in Baltimore was established (1880), it was he who 
was called to put the new enterprise on its feet. This 
he thoroughly did, growing meanwhile himself steadily 
in pulpit power. After six years of labor in that 
fruitful field he was fixed upon by the First Presby- 
terian Church of Pittsburgh — whose pastor, the Rev. 
Sylvester F. Scovel, had been taken from it, in 1883, 
to become President of Wooster University — as the 



xvi 



INTRODUCTORY NOTE 



man it needed to carry forward its high traditions and 
compact its energies. In this pastorate, as one of the 
closest and most sympathetic observers of his work 
has put it, he achieved " one of the triumphs of 
the modern ministry." He " showed that even in a 
' down-town ' church scholarship can do more than 
sensationalism, and that unfeigned devotion to the 
simple Gospel is the only true basis for genuine pulpit 
power. He gathered into his audience all classes 
and conditions, gentle and simple, wise and unwise, 
who sat at his feet and heard his words with delight, 
and were moved to holy living by the vital power 
of the Word as he preached it." 

" Meanwhile," continues the same writer, " he was 
busy in his study, ever the secret spring that fed his 
pulpit." During all these years of successful pulpit 
work he had, in fact, never intermitted his enthusiastic 
study of the New Testament and related branches of 
theological investigation. A specimen of his schol- 
arly attainments was now given to the world in his 
course of " Stone Lectures," delivered at Princeton 
Seminary in the autumn of 1888, and shortly after- 
ward published in a goodly volume. Other publi- 
cations followed in the Reviews, and it soon became 
quite clear that a light of learning had been lifted up 
whose shining could not be hid. The seminaries 
began to turn longing eyes toward him. He was 
sought by more than one of them for more than one 



INTRODUCTORY NOTE 



xvii 



chair of instruction. Princeton Seminary endeavored 
in vain to secure him for its chair of Church History. 
During a vacancy in the chair of Dogmatic Theology 
at the Western Seminary at Allegheny, he actually 
taught that branch of theology throughout a whole 
session to delighted classes; and both that seminary 
and McCormick Seminary would fain have secured 
him for that chair. But his heart was fixed in its 
devotion to the critical study of the New Testament. 
And at length, in 1892, on the death of his beloved 
instructor in this department, he was prevailed upon 
to take up the work that had fallen from Dr. Hodge's 
hands. Thus he became Professor of New Testament 
Literature and Kxegesis in Princeton Seminary. 

To the work of this chair he brought not only 
eminent general abilities and a remarkable and special 
aptitude, but a trained exegetical tact and a large 
store of accumulated knowledge. He brought also an 
unbounded energy and zeal, and a depth of religious 
sentiment which rendered every word of the New Tes- 
tament precious to him, and made its exposition and 
enforcement his greatest delight. It is using wholly 
inadequate language to speak of his eight years of 
instruction in this chair as successful. His instruction 
was enthusiastically given and enthusiastically re- 
ceived. He impressed his pupils profoundly. For 
many years to come the Church will be richer in men 
who know and love the New Testament for these years 

B 



xviii 



INTRODUCTORY NOTE 



of his work in the seminary. In these pupils he will 
live anew as they expound the Scriptures in the spirit 
which they have learned from him. 

His class-room work, however, did not suffice him. 
His burning zeal in the communication of his treasures 
of divine knowledge led him ever to seek and to find 
other channels of expression. He wrote much for the 
religious press ; he even became for a time a regular 
contributor to one of our church papers. He was in 
great demand as a public lecturer, and made frequent 
and long journeys to deliver either a single address or 
a course of lectures. Even this was not enough. He 
was soon found preaching regularly every Sabbath 
evening in one of the Princeton churches, with an 
especial view to the needs of the unevangehzed classes, 
and particularly of the young men gathered so numer- 
ously in this university town. Just as while he was 
in the pastorate he was besieged by the seminaries, 
seeking to obtain his gifts and learning for their chairs 
of instruction; so, now, when he was at last in the 
seminary, he was besieged by the churches, seeking to 
obtain his demonstrated ability and tried skill for their 
pulpits. Numerous calls came to him from the out- 
standing churches of the land ; back to Pittsburgh, to 
Baltimore, to Philadelphia, to New York. Every one 
of them tempted him. He loved to preach and was 
conscious of the power that went out from him. But 
he contented himself for the time with becoming 



INTRODUCTORY NOTE 



xix 



stated-supply to the First Presbyterian Church of 
Princeton (1897), though this soon ripened into his 
settlement as regular pastor of that church (1899). 

He put his shoulders under his double burden with 
an enthusiasm that knew no measure. An assistant 
was given him in the church ; an assistant was given 
him in the seminary. But he appeared to be con- 
cerned not so much to shift some of his work to them, 
as to invent enough additional work in the congrega- 
tion and seminary to keep them also busy. He him- 
self responded to the demands made on him, and 
expanded to ever greater power. It was during his 
Princeton pastorate, for example, that he developed 
his full gifts as a pastor. Perhaps at the outset of 
his career it was the intellectual side of his work 
that was most prominent; it was especially in the 
pulpit that he made full proof of his ministry. As his 
ministry ripened to its close, however, he had become 
a model pastor, absolutely tireless, and remarkably 
effective in his infinitely sympathetic personal inter- 
course with his people. These superabounding labors 
proved, of course, too much for his strength, sapped, 
as it now proved to be, by the inroads of a fatal dis- 
ease. So, in the spring of 1900, he laid down his 
work in Princeton, and became pastor of the Fifth 
Avenue Presbyterian Church in New York, the fourth 
in that series of remarkable pastors by which the his- 
tory of that church during the last half century has 



XX 



INTRODUCTORY NOTE 



been distinguished — James W. Alexander, Nathan L. 
Rice, John Hall, and George T, Purves. This was, 
in a sense, the fitting culmination of his life. But less 
than eighteen months were granted him for the culti- 
vation of this new field before he "fell on sleep," 
having literally worn himself out in a service of love. 

It is doubtless idle to ask whether Dr. Purves was 
more the preacher or more the scholar. The greater 
portion of his active life was passed in the pulpit, and 
it will not be strange if he is longer remembered as 
one of the most impressive preachers of his day. In 
truth, however, the two things cannot be separated 
in his case. He was never more the profoundly in- 
structed scholar than when he stood in the pulpit : he 
was never more the preacher of righteousness than 
when he sat in the class-room. He certainly was not 
a scholastic preacher ; and he certain.ly was not what 
is called a " homiletical " teacher. He was too ripe a 
scholar to take the atmosphere of the study into the 
pulpit with him ; he was too skilled in the art of 
rehgious impression to carry the pulpit tone into the 
class-room. But, on the other hand, the whole man, 
with all his gifts and graces, was present wherever he 
went ; and as he was one of the most reverential of 
teachers, so was he habitually one of the most theo- 
logical of preachers. 

It was not merely that he had thought himself 
through theologically, and held firmly to a devel- 



INTRODUCTORY NOTE 



xxi 



oped theological system which underlay and sustained 
and gave body to all his preaching. This was emi- 
nently true of him ; and it went far to account for 
the consistency, strength, and edifying effect of his 
pulpit ministrations. But he did not merely preach 
out of his theology; he preached his theology. He 
constantly took a theological topic for his subject, 
and developed it with notable precision and fullness. 
As he preached his theology, so also he preached his 
" criticism." The boldness with which he introduced 
into his sermons the results, and, on the positive side, 
even the processes of his critical studies, was equalled 
only by the skill with which he bent it all to serve a 
religious end. The staple of his preaching may be, 
perhaps, best described as BibHco-theological. His col- 
league, Dr. John DeWitt, has admirably expressed it 
by calling his sermons " didactic orations of which the 
substance was yielded by studies in Biblical theology." 
But so skillful was he in truly popular exposition, so 
free was he from all parade of learning, so vitalized 
was all he said with experimental religion, so earnestly 
and simply were the truths he presented pressed home 
to the heart and conscience, that only the most reflect- 
ing of his hearers quite realized that they were being 
as carefully indoctrinated " as they were' being power- 
fully aroused to religious emotion and action. 

The most striking quality of his delivery was its 
vigor, — its nervous expenditure. He preached all 



XXll 



INTRODUCTORY NOTE 



over. He threw a tremendous energy of bodily action 
into what he said, gesturing not with forethought and 
calculated effect, but as if the force of his conviction 
and his earnestness of purpose must find exit in some- 
thing more than words. His spoken style was correct, 
clear, and forcible. He was no phrase-maker; he did 
not deal in antitheses, assonances, colloquialisms ; he 
used illustrations sparingly. He had no broken-sen- 
tences ; his periods were rounded, balanced, and pellu- 
cidly clear ; he never framed an unintelligible, weak, or 
unvitalized sentence. He knew what he wished to 
say, and he knew how to say it so that it went straight 
from his lips to the intellects, hearts, and consciences 
of his hearers. His sermons were always systemat- 
ically and compactly organized and made a unitary 
impression. His aim in preaching was obviously not 
to delight but to instruct, not to give pleasure but 
guidance ; and he had his reward. He was not a revi- 
valist — he was rather a master-builder. His churches 
grew steadily and solidly under his hands, and became 
compacted into thoroughly vitalized organisms. To 
this result no doubt the faithfulness of his pastoral 
care contributed ; but much must be attributed also to 
the faithfulness and power of his preaching. 

The Rev. Dr. George E. Horr, of Boston, happened 
to hear Dr. Purves at a communion service in the Fifth 
Avenue Church, New York, just as he was about to 
assume that pastorate ; and the visitor wrote out the 



INtR on UCTOR Y NO TE 



xxiii 



impression he carried away with him and printed it in 
his paper, The Watchman (March i, 1900). It will 
perhaps give us a more vivid picture of Dr. Purves in 
the pulpit than we can easily obtain elsewhere. " Dr. 
Purves," he writes, " is a stocky man, a little below the 
medium height, with a clear, persuasive, penetrating 
voice. The peculiar quality of his preaching is its com- 
bination of modernness and conservative orthodoxy. 
His topic was * The Precious Blood of Christ.' His lan- 
guage was clear, direct, and sinewy ; his analysis of his 
proposition singularly convincing and effective, and the 
discourse moved strongly, like an army, from point to 
point, leaving the impression that the blood of the 
Redeemer was infinitely worthful. But the assump- 
tions of the discourse were as weighty as its argument. 
Dr. Purves did not apologize for the Bible nor seek to 
show that its statements are true. He assumed their 
truth, and some of the most conclusive and effective 
passages in the sermon were those in which he ap- 
pealed to the Word of God in confirmation of his 
statements. He quotes the Scriptures with accuracy 
and pertinence, though he seems to discard entirely 
the help of notes." 

Cut off as he was in the midst of his days. Dr. 
Purves has left behind him no such literary product 
as will convey to posterity an adequate measure of his 
powers. He served his own generation. Outside of 
the pulpit and the class-room, it was in numerous 



xxiv 



INTR OD UCTOR V NO TE 



addresses and equally numerous " flying leaves " of 
newspaper articles that he expended his strength. It 
is easy to value these too lightly. We are, perhaps, 
prone to overestimate the relative importance of 
books : Litera scripta manei. But the " winged word " 
of speech moves the world ; and it is better, after all, 
to form characters than to compile volumes. Dr. 
Purves seems to have thought so ; and he gave himself 
freely, or rather prodigally, to the oral communication 
of his thought. The subjects on which he spoke, the 
audiences which he addressed, were of the most varied 
kinds. Few of these addresses have found their way 
into print. But each has had its own effect on human 
lives. 

He published but two books. One of these has 
already been mentioned — his admirable " Stone Lec- 
tures," on TJie Testimony of Justin Martyr to Early 
Christianity^ published in 1889. By its side he placed, 
in the closing days of his professorship at Princeton, 
his equally admirable hand-book on The Apostolic Age 
(1900). Both books are thoroughly characteristic of 
Dr. Purves : careful, painstaking, absolutely honest 
pieces of work, presented in an unambitious, work- 
manlike style. In reviewing the former book, Liide- 
mann, though rejecting Dr. Purves' whole point of 
view, yet is constrained to confess that his work 
exhibits "thorough knowledge," and proceeds by 
means of " an exact presentation of the data — suppress- 



INTRODUCTORY NOTE 



XXV 



ing nothing, concealing nothing." This is worth 
adverting to, as it reveals a fundamental trait of Dr. 
Purves' mind. His was above everything else a fair 
mind, an honest mind. He might sometimes appear 
too cautious in reaching and announcing conclusions ; 
never too little so. 

In a notable address, which he delivered at the 
Commencement Exercises of Emporia College in 
1894, on TJie Value of the Highest Culture, he let 
drop a phrase which fairly enunciates the note of 
all his work. " Such culture," he says, " induces 
caution and modesty in reaching conclusions." There 
speaks Dr. Purves' scientific conscience, and there we 
have in a few words the primary trait of his scientific 
life. He sedulously sought to have all the facts be- 
fore him before forming an opinion. Perhaps he some- 
times found it difficult to recognize the truth until he 
could see it whole. But he spared no pains in seeking 
to see it whole. And when he did come to see it, he 
clung to it with the strength of conviction naturally 
induced by the consciousness that he had attained 
it by solid processes of investigation and thought. 

It is worth while to observe that both of Dr. Purves* 
published works are historical studies, and historical 
studies based on minute investigation and presented 
with masterly command of the material. The same 
historical interest is apparent also in his minor pub- 
lications. Nevertheless, this was not his primary in- 



xxvi 



INTRODUCTORY NOTE 



terest. His engagement with the historical aspects of 
New Testament problems was the effect partly of his 
unquenchable zeal for the exploration of every side 
of New Testament study, but chiefly of the exigen- 
cies of the situation. His historical investigations 
were largely incidental to apologetical ends. The 
apologetical motive is indeed expHcitly put forward in 
nearly all of his historical studies. Nevertheless, not 
even in it can we find the real spring of his zeal. If 
he was interested in history for its apologetical value, 
he was interested in apologetics not for its own sake, 
but for the sake of the precious truth which it guarded. 
His primary interest in the New Testament was, in a 
word, doctrinal ; and he was most in his element when 
he was investigating its treasures of truth. 

He has unfortunately left us very few Biblico-theo- 
logical discursions ; but what he has left us are very 
sane and very valuable. Those who knew him well 
found an intense interest in watching the slow but 
steady and solid growth in his mind of a complete 
doctrinal system, consciously drawn by him from the 
New Testament, and built up step by step only as in 
the course of time he was enabled to investigate thor- 
oughly its entire reach of teaching. To those who 
knew him well, the fact that the system to which he 
thus attained was that which is commonly known 
under the name of Federalistic Calvinism, although he 
had originally no predilection for this mode of con- 



INTR OD UCTOR Y NO TE 



xxvii 



ceiving evangelical truth, but was, on the contrary, 
somewhat prejudiced against it, afforded notable re- 
newed evidence of the real rooting of this system in 
the teaching of the New Testament. 

The whole mass of Dr. Purves' published scientific 
work is not large. By the side of his two books there 
are only five or six extended Review articles to be 
placed. These, in the order of time of publication, 
bear the following titles : " The Influence of Paganism 
on Post- Apostolic Christianity" (Prcsbyt£7nan Review^ 
1888); ''Simon Peter in the School of Christ" [Presby- 
terian and Reformed Review, 1891); "St. Paul and 
Inspiration" (Presbyterian and Reformed Review, 1893); 
"The Incarnation BibHcally Considered" (in Christ 
and the Church, Revell, 1 894) ; " The Formation of the 
New Testament" [Presbyterian and Reformed Review, 
1895); "The Witness of Apostolic Literature to Apos- 
tolic History " [Presbyterian and Reformed Review, 
1898); "The Unity of Second Corinthians" [Tlie 
Union Semijiary Magazine, 1900). Quite a series of 
articles were contributed by him also to two recent 
Dictionaries of the Bible, — that edited by Dr. James 
Hastings and published by T. & T. Clark, and that 
edited by Dr. John D. Davis and published by the 
Presbyterian Board of Pubhcation. At the time of 
his death he was under appointment for two courses 
of lectures, one to be delivered at Harvard University 
and one at Princeton Seminary; and he had it in mind 



XXVlll 



INTR OD UCTOR Y NO TE 



to work up some of his accumulations of scientific 
material into these. He had also long cherished a 
design to prepare and publish a treatise on the Apostle 
Peter, of a type somewhat like Conybeare and How- 
son's well-known work on Paul. We are the poorer 
that these projected works were never published. 

No account of Dr. Purves' life would be complete 
which neglected to note his faithfulness in the dis- 
charge of the duties that came to him as a presbyter 
in an organized Church. He was as good a presbyter 
as he was a pastor, diligent in all the work of the 
presbytery. He was four times delegated to represent 
his presbytery in the General Assembly (1884, 1889, 
1896, 1 901). Those were stirring years in ecclesiastical 
annals, in which it was no sinecure to serve the Church 
as a bishop in council. It must suffice here to say 
that Dr. Purves bore his full part in the labors and 
the debates of the body, and no voice was more 
potent in its councils. Special prominence was given 
him at the Assemby of 1901 by his nomination for the 
moderatorship ; and the affection and esteem in which 
he was held by the house was exhibited not only by 
the large vote cast for him in this contest, but also 
by the reception given him whenever he rose in his 
place to address the house. 

He was one of the representatives of his Church 
at the Seventh Council of the "Alliance of the 
Reformed Churches holding the Presbyterian Sys- 



INTR OD UCTOR V NO TE 



xxix 



tern," sitting at Washington in 1899. From 1888 
to 1892 he was a member of the Board of Missions 
for Freedmen, and from 1900 to his death, of 
the Board of Home Missions. He was appointed 
by the Assembly of 1901 a member of a special 
ad interim committee charged with the duty of stimu- 
lating the churches in evangelistic work, with the 
considering of such work and its conduct in relation 
to the churches : and into the labors of this com- 
mittee he was throwing himself with great spirit when 
death overtook him. It would not be possible to 
record here, however, all the appointments with which 
he was entrusted. Let it be enough to say that it was 
the delight of the Church to honor him with positions 
of trust and his delight to respond by a most dis- 
tinguished service to the calls so made upon him. 

Dr. Purves' private life was one of exceptional 
beauty. There was something in his address that was 
peculiarly charming : a manifest sincerity, willing self- 
effacement, and unmistakable sympathy. This gave a 
certain personal quality to all his intercourse which 
begot in those with whom he came in contact a re- 
sponse in kind. He made many and close friends. 
The simple annals of a diligent scholar and tireless 
pastor were his, during all the faithfully improved 
years in which he grew steadily, like a cedar, straight 
upward, in perfect quiet, and with no consciousness of 
the wide shadow he was casting about him. He was 



XXX 



INTR on UCTOR V NO TE 



just completing his forty-ninth year when he died, in 
New York, on the 24th of September, 1901, deprived, 
as we cannot but sadly say to ourselves, of the residue 
of his days. They were forty-nine strenuous years 
he had lived. It would be cruel for us to begrudge 
him at last his well-earned rest. 



Benjamin B. Warfield. 

Princeton, May i, 1902. 



FAITH AND LIFE 



I 

THE DISAPPOINTMENT OF THE WORLD WITH CHRIST 

" He hath no form nor comeliness ; and when we shall see Him, there 
is no beauty that we should desire Him." — Isaiah liii. 2. 

Thus Isaiah described beforehand the disappoint- 
ment which the world would feel with the Messiah. 
There should be no doubt that the prophet did refer 
to the Messiah. It is quite probable, indeed, that his 
description was suggested by the shame and humiha- 
tion of Israel's captivity, which also he foresaw ; and 
elsewhere the "Servant of Jehovah" often denotes 
the people of Israel themselves. But in this chapter 
the figure of Israel resolves itself into its ideal, and 
that was realized only in its Messianic Head. Of Him 
is affirmed a work of expiation which on Biblical prin- 
ciples cannot be attributed to any race or any other 
individual. While, therefore, the woes of the Babylo- 
nian captivity, with its utter defacement of the beauty 
and glory of Israel, may have given occasion to the 
vision which Isaiah received of the unutterable lowli- 
ness of the Christ, there should be no question that to 
the Christ his sight was directed in this passage, and to 



2 



FAITH AND LIFE 



Him his words referred. In strange contrast with the 
prophecies of glory, and with the inspired dreams of 
royal majesty and conquering power, there now ap- 
peared the spectacle of One despised and rejected of 
men; of One who would not appeal to the admiration 
of mankind ; of One whom the world would not rank 
among her great and noble; of One who would bear 
the derision of mankind and the very curse of God. 

And as this was plainly the prophet's thought, so is 
it well known that his words served, when the Christ 
did appear, to explain to His disciples the mystery of 
their Master's lowliness and shame. When the time 
came for a Nazarene carpenter and crucified Galilean 
to be proclaimed to Israel and the world as God's 
Messiah, the Spirit who had inspired Isaiah used his 
language both to establish the faith of the disciples 
and to lead them into the fullness of the truth. Isaiah 
furnished one of the principal keys by which apostolic 
thought opened the door of truth and obtained its 
own precious message to mankind. It was by the term 
" Servant of Jehovah " that Jesus was proclaimed as 
Messiah by Peter after Pentecost (Acts iii. 13, R.V.) 
When Matthew relates the healing miracles of 
Jesus, he points out that Isaiah had already said 
of Him, " Himself bore our iniquities and carried 
our sicknesses" (ix. 17). When John describes the 
obstinacy of Jewish unbelief, he reminds us that 
Isaiah had asked, "Who hath believed our report 



DISAPPOINTMENT OF WORLD WITH CHRIST 3 

and to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed " 
(xii. 38)? The same is done by Paul in the Epistle 
to the Romans (x. 16). Jesus himself had pointed 
His disciples to this prophecy when, after the Trans- 
figuration, He reminded them that " it is written of 
the Son of Man -that He must suffer many things and 
be set at naught" (Mark ix. 12). Peter, in his First 
Epistle (ii. 23, 24), weaves Isaiah's words with his 
own when describing the silent and patient Sufferer, 
" who, when He was reviled, reviled not again ; who 
Plis own self bare our sins in His own body on the 
tree; by whose stripes we were healed." The use of 
the fifty-third chapter of Isaiah is even more explicit 
and frequent in the early Christian literature of the 
post-apostolic age. We evidently have in it a divinely 
provided interpretation by which apostoHc as well as 
uninspired thought was enabled to explain the fact of 
the Lord's humiliation, and by which the disciples were 
strengthened against all doubt as they pointed the 
world to such an improbable Messiah, to such an 
uncrowned King. 

Both the prophet's words and the apostolic use of 
them thus bring before us the fact of the disappoint- 
ment which the world naturally feels with Jesus. 
Judged by the standards of common glory and great- 
ness. He is "without form and comeliness." This is 
the way in which the Bible presents Him. And yet 
I am afraid that this truth is often obscured at the 



4 



FAITH AND LIFE 



present time. Around the name of Jesus a new glory 
has gathered. The breaking of the homely vase has 
filled the world with the fragrance of the heavenly 
ointment that was within. Under His own influence, 
men have come to look with more appreciation at His 
lowliness and to glorify His sufferings. But this is too 
often done by applying to Him the world's standard 
of greatness, and by attempting to show that, even 
when thus judged, He is not " without form and come- 
Hness." In this way the measurement is changed; 
and there often follows an attempt to vindicate His 
right to man's allegiance because He is the first among 
many masters. This is an example of the wave of 
naturalism which is sweeping over Christian thought, 
and which decorates with its purple cloak the suffering 
Christ Himself 

It is not without reason, therefore, that we emphasize 
the disappointment which the natural mind must ever 
feel with the Christ of the Bible. Let me call your 
attention to the fact itself, and then to its significance. 

First, then, the fact. It appears most obviously 
in the disappointment of the natural mind with the 
outward events of Christ's career on earth. So was it 
at the beginning, even to the point of ridicule. He did 
not appear with the common insignia of royalty. He 
was known, not even as a Bethlehemite, but as a Naz- 
arene. His career was connected with no attempt at 
political uprising, nor did He appeal to the common 



DISAPPOINTMENT OF WORID WITH CHRIST 5 

ambitions of His people. He was a simple preacher of 
peace and righteousness. He was not a man of the 
aristocracy, either social or intellectual. He was a 
peasant and the friend of publicans. His life was spent 
among the inglorious poor. At last He was over- 
whelmed by His enemies and crucified, as a malefactor, 
between two robbers. It was a difficult story to make 
attractive to the natural mind. To the Jew, it was a 
stumbling-block, and to the Greek, foolishness. The 
wonder is that, with so little to appeal to man's ordi- 
nary ideals of greatness and beauty, the messengers of 
the Crucified should have obtained any audience at all. 

But it may be said that the world has now learned 
its mistake, and has come to appreciate the real beauty 
of the story of Jesus. Does not even scepticism pay 
tribute to Him, and acknowledge that His poverty and 
shame are more honorable than wealth and crowns ? 
In this matter it is necessary for us carefully to dis- 
criminate. 

It is true that the power of Jesus in human history 
has thrown a glamour over the unlovely events of His 
career ; so that they have become interesting to many 
who would not naturally take any interest in them 
whatever. We all go back to the beginnings of a 
great man's life, and invest them, however humble, 
with historical sacredness. The log-cabin in which a 
President was born interests us more than if it were a 
stately mansion, just because of its contrast with what 



6 



FAITH AND LIFE 



might have been expected. But this is only historical 
interest. It does not mean in the least that the cabin 
is thought beautiful or that we should hke to live in 
such a dweUing. 

Then, too, art has made the life of Jesus the theme 
of its mighty skill. It has invested with the halo of 
its fine imagination the homely manger and the peasant 
mother, the simple teacher and the Galilaean fisher- 
man, the weeping figure in Gethsemane and the bleed- 
ing figure on the cross. This has had the effect of 
making these scenes familiar and beloved. The world 
glories in the triumphs of its art. Whatever art has 
touched is made an object of veneration. Its treat- 
ment of the life of Christ has idealized the Christ. 
Even reaHstic art cannot help glorifying such a sub- 
ject. In consequence of this, the story of Jesus has 
become one of the world's treasures with which the 
maddest unbelief would not be wiUing to part. 

And then modern sentiment, aside from art and the 
reflex influence of Christianity on the life of the world, 
has made the life of Jesus seem more beautiful than it 
did in ancient times. We do not now care much for 
the trappings of royalty. Labor has become honor- 
able. The common people have asserted their rights. 
The modern world is democratic. Self-sacrifice itself 
is thought more beautiful than conquest. Men's ideals 
have partly changed under the influence of Christianity. 
The modern world is rather glad to be told that its 



DISAPPOINTMENT OF WORLD WITH CHRIST 7 

God was a carpenter. It is more conscious of its own 
wrongs than of its duties, and therefore is not averse 
to knowing that the Master was as unjustly treated as 
it feels itself to be. 

Thus from various causes the offensiveness of Christ's 
career has apparently been removed, and the tempta- 
tion is strong to suppose that the appearance is real. 
There is no more ridicule heaped upon Him. His 
humiliation would rather seem to be His greatest glory. 
But in fact this rehabilitation of Jesus is quite deceptive. 

It is still true that to the natural mind the facts 
themselves are hard and unlovely. It was a peasant's 
life, after all. It was wholly without ornament or am- 
bitious aspiration or martial prowess. It was a self- 
repressing life. It is a story of hunger, pain, persecution, 
and death ; and these become beautiful to the world 
only when they are invested with romantic associ- 
ations. Their beauty Hes in what we believe to have 
been before and after and behind them. But as the 
bare facts were first proclaimed to an unprepared 
world, they excited contempt; and if you tell them 
to-day to unprepared heathenism, they will be likely to 
meet with the same reception. 

Nor do they correspond with the actual ideals of the 
natural mind, even when the latter has been affected by 
Christianity. Who would be so bold as to affirm that 
men really admire meekness, self-crucifixion, gentle- 
ness, and patience ? Or if a measure of admiration for 



8 



FAITH AND LIFE 



these virtues be forced from some by the power of 
Christian education, who would maintain that they are 
the real ideals of the modern any more than of the 
ancient world ? The common life of mankind un- 
happily would behe such an assertion. The world in 
its heart sees no beauty in them, and turns with joy 
from the gloomy contemplation of such things to the 
glittering prizes which its self-love and ambition see. 

And to crown it all, when the lowly, suffering Christ 
is presented as the only Saviour ; when the world is 
summoned to cast away all its pride and trust for sal- 
vation to His merits alone ; the old offensiveness returns 
in all its power. This is no more a welcome message 
now than it was in the days of Paul. To the natural 
mind, it is foolishness. Salvation must be gained, if at 
all, by ourselves. Reason is the true guide and the 
human will the saving power. We may invest the 
Nazarene's life with all the glamour which art senti- 
ment and, historical association can give; we may 
appeal with all eloquence to Him as the true ideal of 
character over against the false ; but when we go 
farther and present the Nazarene as the only one who 
is able to save, His life as our righteousness, His 
death as our sacrifice, then the natural mind turns 
away, as of old, with open or concealed denial. 

If, then, we turn from the outward events of Christ's 
career to consider Him as a teacher, how does He fare 
in the estimate of the natural mind ? In this aspect 



DISAPPOINTMENT OF WORLD WITH CHRIST g 

He comes into comparison with the other famous in- 
structors of humanity. When judged as they are, is 
He Hkeiy to be rated as high as they ? Of course, it 
is admitted on all sides that He was a great teacher. 
All are forced to concede this. But the reverence of 
the natural mind for Him even as a teacher is more a 
concession to tradition than a real veneration. When 
we bring Him into comparison with others, and if we 
apply to Him the tests by which the admission of their 
greatness is secured, the result, from the world's point 
of view, is again disappointing. 

For one thing, Jesus was not an author. He made 
no contribution to the world's literature. His dis- 
ciples did under His influence, but He himself did not. 
In this indeed He was like Socrates ; but the fact is 
more significant than may at first appear. It indicates 
that He did not aspire after intellectual renown. He did 
not aim at winning the world by intellectual methods. 
He did not value beauty of literary form. He was no 
poet like David. He left no written code of laws 
like Moses. He composed no history. Unlike even 
the prophets and apostles, He did not commit His in- 
structions to paper in order to secure their perpetu- 
ation or to move mankind by the genius of His 
thought. By faiHng to do this. He deliberately de- 
prived himself of one of the chief instruments by 
which other teachers have won a place among the 
leaders of mankind. 



lO 



FAITH AND LIFE 



Still further, His method of teaching was not philo- 
sophical. The great thinkers of the world have usually 
won fame more by the processes of their thought than 
by its results. It is the process of thought which 
makes the impression of intellectual power. Herein 
lay the power of Socrates, though he left no literary 
remains. The great philosophers have been famous 
mainly for their methods of investigation and instruc- 
tion. Plato, Aristotle, Descartes, Kant, are far more 
influential because of the processes of philosophic 
thought for which they respectively stand, than for the 
particular results of thought to which they attained. 
It is the process which makes their reputation as 
philosophers : and before the intellect in operation the 
world always has been ready to bow. 

But Christ's teaching is quite devoid of philosophical 
method. It is rather the simple affirmation of truth 
by one who claimed to be in authority. Such is the 
express testimony of those who heard Him, and it is 
confirmed by the Gospel reports. He had none of the 
subtle exegesis of the rabbis, none of the nobler dialec- 
tics of the Greeks. He does not impress us at all as a 
great thinker; because He gives no evidence of either 
effort or process of thought. He does not belong to 
the class of intellectual giants, because He did not 
philosophize, but simply bore His witness. If it be 
said that this is because He was an Oriental, we reply 
that Orientals have not been the intellectual leaders 



DISAPPOINTMENT OF WORLD WITH CHRIST II 

of the world. But He did not stand comparison, 
from their own point of view, with the rabbis of 
His own nation. It is quite impossible to give Him 
the same honor which belongs to the other teachers 
of the world. 

It is still more important to observe in this con- 
nection that Jesus did not deal, as a teacher, with those 
subjects which have commonly been thought to form 
the natural sphere of intellectual genius. He did not 
discuss the nature of the world, or of the soul, or of 
absolute being. He did not lead men into the labora- 
tory of nature. He did not deal with metaphysics. 
He did not solve the mystery of evil. He gave utter- 
ance to no flights of imagination. He did not even 
present religious truth in a systematized form. On all 
these subjects His person and His teaching throw, 
for the Christian, infinite Hght. But He was not what 
the world calls a philosopher or a poet in respect to 
the method of His teaching. He belongs to a different 
class. His type is the prophet ; and while in the end 
the world may acknowledge the prophet's mission, it 
does not class him so high as the philosopher. 

Thus when we apply to Christ the standards by 
which other men, great in the realm of intellect, have 
been measured, the world finds Him wanting. He 
suffers in this respect even by comparison with some 
of His disciples. The final proof of it is that the world, 
in fact, does not reckon Him in the list of its intel- 



12 



FAITH AND LIFE 



lectual leaders. You do not find His name, except 
incidentally, in the histories of philosophy or literature. 
And this judgment of Him is correct. He was not 
what is commonly called a great thinker; He was 
incarnate thought. He was not a seeker after truth ; 
He was truth itself. When men seek in Him for the 
glory of intellectual genius, as this is elsewhere esti- 
mated, they simply do not find its marks. 

Still again, when the natural mind approaches Jesus 
as a moral teacher — the sphere in which He is pre- 
eminent — He is still in many respects not such as 
the world thinks such a teacher ought to be. For 
He did not do the things which most other teachers 
of morality have sought to do, and for doing which 
praise is accorded to them. For example, He made 
no effort to set right the crying evils of the society 
of His day. There were many of these : violent 
military oppression ; the enforced slavery of thousands ; 
the tyranny of the wealthy few over the pauper mul- 
titudes. But Jesus did not lift up His voice against 
slavery, or war, or class oppression. He inveighed 
indeed against trust in riches, but He did so from the 
point of view of the individual. He did not deal with 
poHtical or economic questions. He was not so much 
of a reformer as John the Baptist was. Why, men 
ask, did He not explicitly solve for the world the 
grievances which have lain so heavily upon human life 
concerning its social condition ? Have not these 



DISAPPOINTMENT OF WORLD WITH CHRIST 1 3 

grievances become only the more deeply felt as the 
spirit of Christianity has spread ? Why, then, did not 
the author of Christianity deal with them at the first ? 

Of course, we who are His followers, now know 
that His method was the wisest. Immediate social 
reconstruction would have prevented the spread of 
those ethical principles by which alone such recon- 
struction has been at all possible. But the fact 
remains that in the world's estimate Jesus is, even 
as a moral teacher, a disappointment. Many an earnest 
reformer has wished that Jesus had not practiced so 
much reserve on these subjects. Others, more im- 
petuous, have even declaimed against Him in this very 
sphere. To much of modern humanitarianism does 
He seem to come far short of what the ideal saviour 
of society ought to be. When we face the bitter, 
furious, practical grievances of modern social life with 
the Sermon on the Mount, the Golden Rule, and the 
doctrine of Self-sacrifice, how little welcome has the 
natural mind for these remedies ! There is no beauty 
in them. 

Thus, I think, the effort to show the greatness and 
beauty of Christ by means of those considerations by 
which greatness and beauty are elsewhere estimated 
inevitably fails. The fact is one that ought not to be 
concealed. To the natural mind, under the power of 
self-love, what beauty is there in poverty, humility, 
renunciation, suffering, and death? To the natural 



FAITH AND LIFE 



intellect, what greatness in a teacher whose only mes- 
sage was about God and holiness, who gave no evi- 
dence of profound intellectual methods, and did not 
deal at all with the problems of science and philoso- 
phy? The ardent reformer, if his, too, be the natural 
mind, grows impatient with this teacher who seems 
to avoid the social compHcations of morality. Let 
me not be misunderstood. With all my soul, I bow 
in homage before the very qualities in Jesus at which 
the world takes offence. His life is the true ideal, 
before the splendor of which the common ideals of 
the world are as glittering dross to gold. His teach- 
ing contains the true philosophy ; and unless philoso- 
phy accept both His affirmations and His implications, 
it will ever remain a fruitless search. His ethics, 
likewise, are the true basis of all social reconstruction 
as well as of a noble individual life. But, as He 
stands before us in His historic career on earth, and 
when He is measured by the standards of greatness 
and beauty employed by the natural mind. He is still 
"without form or comeliness." He is a disappoint- 
ment. Praise of Him may be wrung from men 
through the influence which He himself has had upon 
the world, and which has forced its way even into 
unbelieving minds. But the natural mind, now as of 
old, can on its own principles give no real recognition 
of His intrinsic glory. Its forced and feeble praises 
should not hide the fact of its essential rejection. 



DISAPPOINTMENT OF WORLD WITH CHRIST 1 5 

Such I take to be the fact. Let us consider its 
significance. 

It has, first, a very important historical signifi- 
cance. For, in view of our discussion, the question 
must arise. How is the overwhelming power of Jesus 
over His first disciples to be explained? How did He 
succeed in originating Christianity? How came it that 
He won His way so rapidly into the confidence and 
veneration of so many both in the Jewish and the Gen- 
tile world? The origin of Christianity ought to be an 
enigma to the natural mind. As I have shown, Jesus 
was utterly devoid of those qualities which are usually 
thought able to start and to sustain such a movement. 
His external life was fitted to arouse ridicule and con- 
tempt, and did arouse them. He did not move the 
minds of men by the power of intellectual genius. He 
initiated no social reform. But these have been the 
chief motive-powers by which other similar movements 
have been originated. It will not do to say that mere 
affection for His person explains this power, for that 
would need to have been based on deeper reasons if it 
were to influence any but a very few. Mohammed 
relied on the power of the sword. Socrates became 
famous as an intellectual genius. But Jesus was neither 
soldier nor philosopher. What then was the power of 
this lowly and crucified Nazarene? 

The only sufficient answer is that He gave to His 
followers supernatural evidence that He had come 



i6 



FAITH AND LIFE 



from God. This was supplied by His resurrection; 
and then it was confirmed by their experience of 
reconciliation with God through faith in Him. Take 
away the supernatural from the origin of Christian- 
ity, and you have an effect without a cause. If it 
be said that it originated in enthusiasm for Jesus, 
and that around this crystallized religious and intel- 
lectual ideas which gave force to the movement, 
we ask how are we to account for this original en- 
thusiasm when Jesus, if He be stripped of the super- 
natural, was without the qualities which on natural 
principles arouse the zeal of men. To the thorough- 
going evolutionist His power must remain inscrutable. 
It is like the beginning of life in nature. It is like the 
origin of mind. In fact, only a supernatural cause will 
explain the phenomena. So disappointing a Messiah, 
so improbable a Saviour, so unphilosophical a Teacher, 
could not have originated the greatest movement in 
the world's history if the power of God had not been 
with Him and in Him. Certainly at least did the first 
disciples themselves realize that it was only the power 
of God which could secure the faith of men. This is 
Paul's explicit declaration. He was right. The origin 
of Christianity was supernatural ; or else, on natural 
principles, it remains an insoluble enigma. 

But the fact which we are considering has also a 
profound religious significance. For another question 
arises, viz.. Why did God thus reveal Himself through 



DISAPPOINTMENT OF WORLD WITH CHRIST 1/ 

His Messiah in such utter lowliness ? It would have 
been easy for Christ to have eclipsed all others in their 
own spheres. He might have been born like a king. 
He might have given us the ultimate philosophy. He 
might have entered at once on the reconstruction of 
the world. He might have done these things, that is, 
so far as His power was concerned. But could He 
have fulfilled His purpose in these ways? The Bible 
answers that He could not. And why? Because the 
radical need is not knowledge. It is redemption. 
The salvation of the world primarily depends upon 
the provision of an atonement. The debt of sin must 
be paid. Eternal justice must first be satisfied. Only 
then will knowledge profit. Only then can individual 
holiness be reached. Only then can social recon- 
struction proceed. 

This is the truth which the natural mind does not 
perceive. Its blindness to this is the cause of its 
failure to appreciate Jesus. The need of redemp- 
tion is the fact which alone explains the lowliness 
of the Christ. So Isaiah declared. After our text he 
explains, "He was bruised for our iniquities; the chas- 
tisement of our peace was upon Him; and with His 
stripes we are healed." This is the only adequate 
explanation. So long as men feel no need of redemp- 
tion, they will be disappointed with Jesus. So long as 
they apply to Him earthly standards, He will fail to 
win their entire allegiance. But when they feel their 

2 



i8 



FAITH AND LIFE 



guilt, then will they see that their earthly standards 
are out of place, and that the very absence from Him 
of earthly glory is the way by which He fulfils a 
grander purpose and meets their direst need. It is, in 
short, not possible to understand or to appreciate Jesus 
Christ until redemption by sacrifice is perceived to be 
the keynote of His mission. 

And therefore I would indicate the practical sig- 
nificance of the fact, which we have considered, espe- 
cially for preachers of Christianity. If we present to 
men the Christ of the Bible, we may expect to find 
the natural mind ever disappointed with Him. And it 
will not be worth our while to try to remove the 
prejudice by arraying Him in tawdry robes that do not 
belong to Him. We shall not secure true allegiance 
to Him by instituting a comparison between Him and 
other masters. If we could show that He surpassed 
all others in their spheres, we should still have failed in 
our mission. In fact, however, as I have stated, the 
comparison will be disappointing. Such efforts are 
but little better than when the soldier cast the purple 
cloak upon Him and cried, " Hail, King of the Jews !" 

Nay, we must present Him as He really is. He 
must ever be known as the Crucified. Just because 
He is that, are we sure that He is the Divine. He is 
not to be measured by others. He is so infinitely 
noble, that these measurements do not apply to Him. 
But, whenever by the Spirit of God human souls are 



DISAPPOINTMENT OF WORLD WITH CHRIST 1 9 

wakened to the reality of guilt and to the bondage of 
sin, will they see that, as despised and rejected of men, 
Jesus is what they need. With this all their judgments 
will change. The false splendor of the world's pomp 
will fade away. The pride of intellect will abase itself 
before Him as the highest truth. Even the striving 
after good will change into a striving after God. The 
unutterable glory of the Cross will dawn upon them. 
Christ will no more be one of many masters. He will 
be the Lamb and the Word of God. O, thou man of 
sorrows, how much more glorious art Thou than any 
dream of human greatness ! To the guilty conscience, 
how priceless is Thy blood ! To the prodigal seeking 
the divine Father, how welcome is the knowledge 
of Thine obedience ! Yea, Thou dost draw near to 
us by Thy very lowliness ; Thou dost disclose the 
true beauty of love by Thy very shame ! Thou 
only, despised and rejected One, Thou only canst 
save ! 

My brothers, take this divine and despised Redeemer 
to the world. Put Him in no pantheon of great men. 
Glory in His humiliation. Let others appear to sur- 
pass Him in the estimate of the world. Do you point 
out that He is greater than all because He is less than 
all ; worthy of worship because He was deemed un- 
worthy by the world ; able to save because He would 
not save Himself ; the One altogether lovely because 
in the poor world's sight without form or comeli- 



20 



FAITH AND LIFE 



ness." Preach and trust " Christ crucified, unto the 
Jews a stumbling-block, and unto the Greeks fool- 
ishness ; but unto them which are called, both Jews 
and Greeks, Christ the power of God, and the wis- 
dom of God." 



II 



THE ALPHA AND OMEGA 

** I am Alpha and Omega." — Revelation xxii. 13. 

The Lord Jesus Christ was the central figure of the 
whole vision seen by Saint John in Patmos, even as 
the coming of Christ is the theme of the whole 
Apocalypse. That remarkable book begins with the 
appearance of the glorified Saviour to His beloved 
disciple. John heard behind him a great voice, as 
of a trumpet, saying, " I am Alpha and Omega, the 
first and the last." And he beheld, in the midst of 
the seven golden candlesticks, one Hke unto the Son 
of man, but strangely different from the lowly form of 
Jesus of Nazareth, because invested with the symbols 
of divine majesty and power. 

This appearance gives the key to all the following 

visions. The messages to the seven churches of Asia 

were from this Christ; they were delivered with all 

the authority of a master; and they rebuked and 

praised with the sovereignty of an absolute king. 

Then, in the vision of the throne in heaven, the 

seer beheld in the midst of the throne and of the 

four living creatures, and in the midst of the elders, 

21 



22 



FAITH AND LIFE 



a Lamb as it had been slain, who came and took 
the book of the decrees out of the right hand of 
God, and before whom the heavenly multitude fell 
down with loud and long worship. So when the first 
seal of the book was broken, Christ, on a white horse, 
was seen to ride forth, with a crown given Him, con- 
quering and to conquer. Again, He is represented as 
the Child of Israel, caught up at birth unto God and to 
His throne, against whom the dragon and his angels, 
and the beasts which obey the dragon's will, incessantly 
make war. Still again He issues forth from heaven 
on His work of conquest, followed by the armies of the 
skies, and bearing on His vesture and on His thigh the 
name written. King of Kings, and Lord of Lords. 
And finally He proclaims Himself the author of His 
Apostle's vision : " I Jesus have sent mine angel to 
testify unto you these things in the churches. I am 
the root and the offspring of David, and the bright and 
morning star." For as in the early twilight, when the 
Hght and darkness combat with each other, the morn- 
ing star heralds the coming day, so amid these visions 
of the conflict between spiritual light and darkness is 
the figure of Christ. The sure herald of the splendor 
of the everlasting dawn. He stands forth supremely — 
the Christ glorifying Himself by glorifying His people — 
the Christ conquering, ruling, judging, and rewarding. 

According to the same Apostle, He was the Eternal 
Word, who in the beginning was with God and was 



THE ALPHA AND OMEGA 



23 



God. According to this same Apostle, the Word had 
become flesh, and dwelt among us, full of grace and 
truth. And now He is King over all things, leading 
to everlasting triumph the hosts of God. What won- 
der that there should echo from the lips of Christ 
Himself, through all the Apocalypse, this phrase, 
which seems to contain all the Lord's glorious history: 
" I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, 
the first and the last !" 

The general meaning of the phrase is evident 
enough. It sets forth the supremacy, the sovereignty, 
the everlastingness of Christ, the author, the governor, 
and the goal of all creation. But it is not, we think, 
too fanciful to perceive in the first clause a particular 
form in which the general idea is expressed. What, 
then, we ask, is indicated by this title appropriated by 
Christ, " I am Alpha and Omega " ? Its suggestiveness 
will appear in the following way. The first and last 
letters of the alphabet may be used to represent in 
brief the sum and substance of any subject. Just as 
we call the elements of any study its A B C, so that 
which is the all-pervading idea, the centre, the sub- 
stance of any treatise, would be its Alpha and Omega. 
It would be found everywhere throughout the volume. 
It would be implied where it is not expressed. It 
would be the main theme of which all else would be a 
variation. Furthermore, language is the expression 
of thought. When, therefore, Christ declares Him- 



24 



FAITH AND LIFE 



self the Alpha and Omega, He declares Himself the 
sum and substance of expressed thought, the all- 
pervading and central theme to which utterance has 
been given. But given by whom? Of whose 
thought is He the expression ? Of whose lan- 
guage is He the theme ? There can be but one an- 
swer. It is God's thought which He expresses ; God's 
language of which He is the utterance. This, then, is 
the mighty truth proclaimed in our text — that Christ 
is the sum and the substance of God's revealed thought. 
He is the first and the last, for " in the beginning was 
the Word," and He is " the heir of all things " ; He is 
"the beginning and the end," for "all things were 
created by Him and for Him." But He is, furthermore, 
also the Alpha and the Omega, the actual substance, 
the single, universal theme of God's revealed thought. 

Now, in order afterward to exhibit the richness of 
this truth, let me remind you, first, that, in Bible teach- 
ing, the history of the world, both natural and moral, 
and still more clearly the history of redemption, are 
but the records in time of God's original thought He 
has already thought out that which takes place in 
His creation. The world, in all its parts, is the revela- 
tion of the divine mind — of the idea which God had 
from and before the start. This is simply to say that 
God is an intelligent and almighty Creator. He is not 
a force that thrust the world blindly into being. He 
is not a law that operates like the laws of machines. 



THE ALPHA AND OMEGA 



He is a person; He is a mind; He thinks; He plans; 
and so He acts. He devised this creation before He 
created it. He had the thought before He proceeded 
to carry it out. " He created all things according to 
the counsel of His own will." " He purposed" certain 
things "in Himself." Such is the teaching of Scripture, 
and of all spiritual religion ; so that the ultimate secret 
of all things consists in God's thought; and the ulti- 
mate reason for all events is to be sought in God's 
original purpose. 

Without delaying longer on this point, I will simply 
remark that this view is the precise opposite of the 
doctrine of chance. If we beheve in a personal God 
at all, it would seem to be almost impossible to sup- 
pose that He either made or governs the world in a 
haphazard way. Had the world been made by an 
angel, its author might not have known what would be 
the result or the history of his own work ; just as an 
inventor may have no idea to what uses his invention 
will finally be put. But the loftier and the purer our 
idea of God becomes, the more do we feel that any- 
thing like chance must be impossible in His works. 
We feel that, as the perfect intelligence, He must have 
had in mind, from the start, all the subsequent history 
of His creation ; we feel that, as the Almighty One, 
He must have willed the world into being with the 
intention that all that has come to pass should occur. 
We look back, therefore, to His eternal thought as the 



26 



FAITH AND LIFE 



origin of all accomplished things. We may not be at 
all able to understand why He has acted as He does, 
or thought as He has ; but we would rather believe in 
His wisdom, in spite of our inability to understand it, 
than to be left to the monstrous alternative that He 
made a world without knowing why He made it, or 
without intending to do anything particular in it or 
with it. 

And the loftier our idea of the Divine Being, the 
more do we feel that we can place absolutely no 
Hmit upon what was embraced in the scope of His 
original purpose. We feel, for example, that it 
must have included the infinitely various world of 
nature. That world awes us by its vastness ; astounds 
us by the intricate and subtle play of its forces. It 
overwhelms the imagination by the perfection of its 
machinery, even under the minutest examination of the 
microscope. It reveals everywhere the sway of exact 
law. Men have discovered in it a wonderful play 
of forces — one force changing into others, while yet 
the total amount of energy in the universe appears to 
remain the same. It is an immense unity ; each part 
affects the other parts about it, with the result of pro- 
ducing, in the lapse of ages, an infinite variety of objects 
instead of the formless chaos to which both Scripture 
and science point as having been at the beginning. 
Now we maintain that this natural world has not been 
produced by chance. I do not necessarily mean that 



THE ALPHA AND OMEGA 



27 



each object, or each variety, or each species of a thing 
has been directly created out of nothing by the hand 
of God. That is another question. But whether that 
be so, or whether these seem simply to have grown, in 
either case we hold to the idea that they come into 
being according to God's original design and under 
His supervision. To say that there is no evidence of 
mind in nature is to shut one's eyes to the order which 
pervades it ; to the adaptation to each other of even its 
most distinct parts ; and to forget, in too minute study 
of its details, the magnificent results which have been 
reached and which an infinity of chances could not 
have produced. We prefer the old statement of Scrip- 
ture : " O Lord, how manifold are Thy works ! In 
wisdom hast Thou made them all : the earth is full of 
Thy riches." 

Then, too, we feel in like manner that human history 
must have been included in God's original thought. 
This might, at first, appear more improbable, for the 
reason that man is a free agent, and therefore it would 
seem impossible to know beforehand what he would 
do, and impossible to direct his course without destroy- 
ing his freedom. And yet a moment's reflection shows 
the contrary. For, explain it as we may, it is an unde- 
niable fact that the history of man has been one of 
growth and progress. That progress has been in the 
direction of material improvement and of increasing 
knowledge ; and not only so, but mankind has been 



28 



FAITH AND LIFE 



SO controlled by unseen forces that great results for 
morals, and for religion, and for the human mind, have 
been accomplished which men never devised them- 
selves. Here, then, is the evident fact that, though 
men are free, they are governed, they are controlled, 
they carry out unwittingly great purposes, the drift 
of which we can often see. This confirms us in the 
opinion that human history, in all its parts, was in- 
cluded in God's thought before even Adam stood in 
his earthly Paradise. " He hath made of one blood 
all nations of men for to dwell on all the face of the 
earth, and hath determined the times before appointed, 
and the bounds of their habitation." 

And I need scarcely add, that the whole work of 
redemption was included in God's original thought — 
that He foresaw and intended to allow the fall of man, 
though He did not cause the fall ; that He intended 
to allow the dispersion of the nations, and to select 
as the recipients of His special truth the children of 
Abraham ; that He intended to reveal Himself through 
the incarnation of His Son, and to apply Christ's re- 
demption in His own way through the work of the 
Spirit. 

The history of the world, therefore, is the record of 
God's thought. I do not wish to elaborate this idea, 
but merely to impress it on your minds for the sake of 
what will follow. I am perfectly aware that it is not an 
easy idea to explain ; that it is not always clear ; that 



THE ALPHA AND OMEGA 



29 



there are facts in the world's history which it often 
seems to us God could not have intended. But I am 
sure that it is less difficult to explain these than to 
adopt the theory of chance. That would banish Him 
altogether from His creation. That would require 
draughts on faith in comparison with which faith in 
God would be child's play. If you stand in the nave 
of a cathedral, it is evident to your mind that the build- 
ing was erected for a purpose, and according to one or 
more architectural ideas. You may not admire the 
architecture ; you may find fault with the design ; you 
may be unable to understand why certain features were 
added and others left out. But as you survey the 
whole, you would not, because of your criticism upon 
it, conclude that the building rose by chance. Still 
less can we believe this of the wide universe. It is 
God's handiwork. It is God's building. It embodies 
divine thought. We are forced to agree with the 
Psalmist that " the counsel of the Lord standeth for- 
ever, the thoughts of His heart to all generations " ; to 
believe also the solemn words of the Prophet, that 
the Lord of hosts hath sworn, saying, Surely as I 
have thought, so shall it come to pass ; and as I have 
purposed, so shall it stand " ; and to accept finally the 
teaching of the Apostle, of " the purpose of Him who 
worketh all things after the counsel of His own will." 
If there be any darkness to us in His dealings, we 
should exclaim, " O the depth of the riches both of 



30 



FAITH AND LIFE 



the wisdom and knowledge of God ! How unsearch- 
able are His judgments, and His ways past finding 
out ! For who hath known the mind of the Lord ? or 
who hath been His counsellor ? Or who hath first 
given to Him, and it shall be recompensed unto him 
again ? For of Him, and through Him, and to Him 
are all things ; to whom be glory forever. Amen." 

With then this in mind, we may be prepared for 
the declaration of Jesus Christ, " I am Alpha and 
Omega." As I have named some of the many things 
included in God's revealed thought, you have noticed 
that the sending of Christ was mentioned as but one 
of them, and such is the place which He occupies in 
ordinary thought. He is considered, perhaps, but one 
among many religious teachers ; or if His unique 
place in redemption be recognized, redemption itself 
is considered as but one of many purposes for which 
the world was made, and sometimes not even the 
most important. But this is not what Christ claimed 
for Himself, or the Bible for Him ; and if I have been 
able to impress you with the truth that all creation is 
the unfolding of God's thought, you will be prepared 
to admit the grandeur of the position which Christ 
occupies when we are told that, of all that thought 
of God's which has been revealed. He is the sum 
and substance. He is its Alpha and Omega. 

Let me indicate how the vista of this truth opens 
in several directions before the mind's eye. 



THE ALPHA AND OMEGA 



31 



I. In the first place, then, He is the sum and sub- 
stance of the Bible itself, and so the practical truth, 
the substance of truth to be believed. The Scrip- 
tures of the Old and New Testaments are the Word of 
God. They are His language, utterances of His 
thought, given from time to time, and collected into 
a volume. They also reveal that plan of salvation 
v^^hich all believers admit to have been devised by 
God alone. Here, then, is the written record of God's 
thought. He knew the end of it from the beginning, 
but little by little did He communicate it to men. It 
forms a book whose human authors were not aware 
of the size and extent of the revelation to which they 
contributed. It contains various methods of teaching 
— now by the lessons of history, now by the exhorta- 
tions of the prophets, now by the thunders of law, 
now by the arguments of acute minds, and again by 
the examples of holy characters. It treats of various 
themes — was composed under the most various cir- 
cumstances and for the most various purposes. 
God of old times spoke " unto the fathers in the 
prophets by divers portions and in divers manners " ; 
and no less did He so speak through the apostles and 
evangelists. The book is a mosaic, made by different 
artists under the unknown direction of a greater than 
they. It is God's word to man — manifold, complex, 
and prolonged ; and yet when we receive it all, we 
discover that, of all this mass of revealed thought, 



32 



FAITH AND LIFE 



Jesus Christ is the Alpha and the Omega, the sub- 
stance and the sum, the stone out of which each 
piece of the mosaic is taken, and the figure which 
all the pieces unite to portray. 

You may see this by following along the history 
of the revelation itself. In the earlier parts, indeed, 
Christ is seldom mentioned. The stream rises among 
the mountains, a little rivulet, that might be overlooked 
in the landscape. But slowly and surely it widens. 
God tells, first, of the woman's seed that would bruise 
the serpent's head. Then, to Abraham, of his seed, 
in whom all nations should be blessed. Then, through 
Jacob, of Shiloh, the prince of peace ; through Moses, 
of the future prophet ; through Balaam, of the Rising 
Star ; to David, of his greater Son ; through Isaiah, 
of the suffering Redeemer and the glorious King: 
and so with louder and still stronger emphasis, till 
the shadows fly before the rising of the Sun Himself. 
Then He fills all the firmament. Apostles preach 
Him ; evangelists describe Him ; the Spirit in the 
Church explains and glorifies Him ; and, at last, as we 
have seen, prophecy expires with the vision of Christ 
in glory coming to judge the world. We realize now 
that, of the whole book, He is the Alpha and Omega ; 
and looking back to the beginning we can see that 
though He was but seldom mentioned. He underlay 
all. In the earliest sacrifices, His sacrifice was implied. 
The ritual of the tabernacle and the temple anticipated 



THE ALPHA AND OMEGA 



33 



His coming. All that God taught men of old time was 
part and parcel of Christ ; so that were it lost and He 
only retained, not one whit of God's thought would 
perish for mankind. 

Or you may see the same thing by examining the 
system of doctrine revealed in the Bible. Its elements 
are such as these. It begins with man's sin and guilt, 
declaring him to be a lost soul. It then tells of God's 
hoHness and justice and love — the holiness which men 
must imitate, the justice which punishes disobedience, 
the love which reaches in fatherly tenderness to us, 
His fallen children. It adds to this the failure of 
man's efforts to please God, the necessity of an atone- 
ment, the immortality of the soul, and eternal rewards 
and penalties to come. These are the elements, but 
they all are merged in the single doctrine of the Christ. 
If in Adam all die, so in Christ shall all be made alive. 
If God be just, Christ has satisfied His justice for 
every one that believes. If God be love, Christ reveals 
that love. If God be holy, Christ enables man to be- 
come holy likewise. He also brings immortality to light 
by His resurrection ; and according as men do or do 
not receive Him are they to receive happiness or misery 
in the future world. Christ, therefore, is the sum and 
substance of Bible doctrine as well as of Bible history. 
Everything must be viewed in His light. Everything 
must be explained by its relation to Him. He is the 
text on which all else is the comment. He is the truth 

3 



34 



FAITH AND LIFE 



of which all else is the application. He is the centre 
from which all else radiates, and the foundation on 
which all else rests. Not the decrees of God, not the 
law of God, not the guilt of man, not immortality, not 
any of these other truths is the central one ; but Jesus 
Christ is the centre. He implies all the rest ; looking 
at Him, we look at the Hght itself; we read the 
whole revelation in a glance. He is the Alpha and 
the Omega, the beginning and the end, the first and 
the last. 

2. Then glance in another direction at the vista 
opened by our text. He is the sum and substance of 
all human history, and so the guiding principle of all 
thoughts. 

I have already maintained that all history is the un- 
folding of divine thought. God's purposes embraced 
not merely the Jews and the Christian Church, but all 
mankind. He intended to leave the nations for a while 
to their own ways, as though to prove thereby the 
impossibility of living aright without His aid ; and in 
the fullness of time to unite them in the faith of the 
Gospel. We ask, then, whether it is possible to dis- 
cover in history any movement, embracing all peoples, 
and leading to one universal goal. At first sight, it 
might appear impossible. The nations of the world 
have lived at cross-purposes, have fought furiously 
against each other, and have differed, the one from 
the other, in ten thousand ways. Each has seemed to 



THE ALPHA AND OMEGA 



35 



go its own road, making its own religion, establishing 
its own laws, working out its own destiny. But is this 
appearance not deceptive ? Is there visible no general 
movement of humanity in one direction ? Have not 
many barriers been broken down, so as to tend 
toward the discovery of one human race? Is not 
also the contrast already great between the separation 
of people from people which antiquity showed and 
the amalgamation of all into one which in some 
measure modern Hfe discloses ? Is not the human 
mind the same everywhere, and cannot we see that 
the drift of human life is toward some single goal 
common to all the world ? 

If so, what is that goal ? Once discover it, and you 
will have the sum and substance of man's history ; 
the object for which he has been made to live. 
What is it then ? Is it mere political unity ? That 
seems as far off as ever. Is it merely secular 
knowledge, or knowledge applied to the comforts 
of life? That would leave unchanged the moral 
nature of man, and the race would continue to show, 
even when most enlightened, as much crime and sin 
as now. No, the goal of history is the Kingdom of 
God, and the Kingdom of God is the Kingdom of 
Christ ! He is its Alpha and Omega. 

We can obtain a hint of this by recalling that re- 
markable combination of circumstances, which Saint 
Paul called the fullness of time, with which you all 



36 



FAITH AND LIFE 



are familiar, and by which Christ came into the 
world at precisely the moment when natural re- 
ligion was worn out, when the Jewish Church had 
ended its mission, when the civilized world had 
one language to convey the Gospel and one gov- 
ernment to protect it. But this is only a hint of 
a larger truth, namely, that the one divine purpose 
which runs through all human life is to create the age 
in which every knee shall bow to Jesus, and in which 
the human race shall find its perfection of both brain 
and heart in the Kingdom of God's dear Son. Christ's 
Kingdom is the end of history. His character, the goal 
of man. All that conflicts with Him shall be cast out 
of the world He has redeemed. Only what is Christ- 
like will survive therein. And as we shall look back 
upon human life from the glorious future, we shall 
confess that He was the Alpha and the Omega, the 
beginning and the end, the first and the last, the sum 
and the substance of this world's long, confused life. 

3. But I would have you look at this truth in another 
direction, and this time apply the telescope of God's 
Word to the vast universe above and beyond our 
world, for you will find that Christ is the Alpha and 
the Omega of all creation, and so also the goal to 
which all leads. We have ascended, step by step, 
upon the mount of vision, and, as the landscape has 
widened, have beheld the same figure of Christ, the 
central object in Patmos and in the world, in the Bible 



THE ALPHA AND OMEGA 



37 



and in all history. Now we are to gaze beyond earth, 
and into the starry spaces — back into the silent eter- 
nity, up to the throne of God, on into the ages to come, 
and lo ! He, around whom this world gathers, is found 
to be still the centre of God's creation, the Alpha and 
Omega of God's thought. 

I would that I could convey to you the wonder- 
ful impression of the dignity of Jesus Christ which 
I derive from the pages of God's Word. Let me 
simply indicate whither our thought should tend. 
We should turn first to the opening of Saint John's 
Gospel : *' In the beginning was the Word, and the 
Word was with God, and the Word was God. . . . 
All things were made by Him ; and without Him 
was not any thing made that was made. In Him 
was life ; and the life was the light of men." What 
means this language, but that the Son of God, who 
became flesh in Jesus Christ, is so emphatically the 
revelation of God's thought that He is called literally 
the Word of God, and that He has been so from the 
very beginning of all things ? Christ is God's utter- 
ance; He is all of God's revealed thought. Through 
Him the Father works. He created the world. He 
is the world's spiritual light. There is this grand 
thought conveyed by the Apostle, that God has re- 
vealed Himself only through His Son ; the Son is the 
revelation ; He is the medium through which God 
shines forth and acts and loves. To take an imperfect 



38 



FAITH AND LIFE 



illustration : If a father should bequeath to his child 
an invention, endow him with the results of all his own 
labors, and that child should put that invention into 
practice ; then the child would be prepared to con- 
vey the father's thought. And so we are taught did 
the Son of God contain in Him and carry into action 
all the Divine Father's thought. He is the Word of 
God; all that God has revealed of Himself has been 
through His Son. 

Then, with this in mind, we turn to the first chapter 
of Ephesians, and discover the same truth put in a 
different way and differently applied. We read that 
Christ is the medium through which all God's loving 
thoughts toward His people have been carried out. He 
has blessed us with all spiritual blessings in Christ. 
He has chosen us in Christ before the foundation of 
the world. In Christ we have redemption, through 
His blood, even the forgiveness of sins. This means 
that the decrees of God, and the love and salvation 
of God, are all looked upon by God Himself through 
Christ ; Christ being the medium by which they are 
carried out, the glass through which they are seen, the 
representative through whom they are conveyed and 
distributed to us. 

And yet not merely is He the Agent of our Christian 
lives. He is now the Head over all things. He ad- 
ministers God's wide government. He is appointed 
Heir of all things, He by Whom God made the worlds. 



THE ALPHA AND OMEGA 



39 



He is in God's place, exalted above all principality 
and power, that He might fill all things. And to 
what end ? This question is answered by Saint Paul 
in a sentence which is itself the complete statement of 
our text and of the idea we have deduced from it. He 
wrote again to the Ephesians that God has " made 
known unto us the mystery of His will " — i. e., that 
eternal thought of which the universe is the copy — 
" according to the good pleasure which He purposed in 
Himself — namely, this, that in the dispensation of the 
fullness of times He might sum up in one all things 
in Christ, both which are in heaven and which are on 
earth." Christ is the end to which absolutely all 
things tend — not merely the little life of man, but the 
greater life of the whole creation. As in the begin- 
ning, He revealed God, so at the end will He do the 
same, but with that fullness of revelation which only 
the long history of conflict between sin and righteous- 
ness could produce. As He was at the beginning, so 
will He be in the end, but with all that He has done 
meanwhile, with all that through Him and with Him 
men have learned meanwhile, spread out to view. 

For this, I take it, is to be the end of time. 
When all things in heaven and on earth shall have as- 
sumed their permanent and unchangeable relation to 
Christ; when His foes shall have been finally vanquished 
and His friends perfectly purified; when heaven and 
earth, when angels and men, shall bow the knee, with 



40 



FAITH AND LIFE 



either the love of followers or with the sullen surrender 
of beaten enemies, and confess that He is Lord to the 
glory of God the Father. And then, we are told, when 
all things are subdued under Him, shall the Son also 
Himself be subject unto Him that put all things under 
Him, that God may be all in all. You call this specu- 
lation : but it is simply the repetition of the statements 
of God's Word; and from them may we gain the idea 
that as on earth we have discovered Christ to be the 
sum and substance of God's thought revealed to us, 
so will the future prove that He is the sum and sub- 
stance likewise of all that God has thought concern- 
ing all creation ; and that in a sense of which we now 
can see but dimly the grandeur. He will be found to 
be the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the 
end, the first and the last. 

What a character, then, Christ is ! How miserably 
base appears neglect of Him ! How grand is faith, 
which opens to our poor minds and hearts this Word 
of God! For I ask if it does not follow from what 
I have said that Christ ought to be the Alpha and 
Omega of our thoughts, even as He is of God's. 
Ought He not to be to us everything? Ought not our 
lives to centre in Him ; our opinions to bow to Him ? 
Ought it not to be our hope to have Christ in us ; 
our reward, to share His glory ? If He be the Alpha 
and the Omega of Scripture, of man's life on earth, 
aye, of all life of all created beings, then, truly, words 



THE ALPHA AND OMEGA 



41 



are too weak to express the absolute faith which we 
should be glad to render. For what, perhaps, is most 
affecting in Christ's character is that He will deign to 
be to each of us all that He is to the greatest; that 
He will be glad to fill our lives and hearts with His 
majestic but gracious presence ; that He desires to be 
to you and to me the Friend that sticketh closer than 
a brother. 

My hearers, this is the question of questions : What 
is Christ to you ? This, the question which decides 
all destinies ; the question on which eternity hinges. 
This is the question the answer to which, as we have 
seen, will part good from the bad for all eternity. 
What is Christ to you ? Can you say that for you to 
live is Christ ? Is He to you the Alpha and the 
Omega, the One for whom you live, in whom you live; 
the One who is first in your heart and in your real 
service? He must be! He must be! or your thought 
Avill not be God's thought. Hereafter you will submit, 
but without reward. Submit to Him now ! Behold 
His peerless worth! Make Him your Lord and King! 
And you will join hereafter with the host who give 
blessing and honor and dominion unto Him who 
sitteth on the throne and unto the Lamb forever. 
You will behold the King in His beauty, and you 
will say that the half has never been told you of His 
worth and goodness who is, in Himself, the revelation 
of God. 



Ill 



WHAT THINK YE OF CHRIST? 
*' What think ye of Christ ?" — Matt. xxii. 42. 

This was one of several occasions on which Jesus 
confuted His Pharisaic opponents by a question ; 
and in this instance He not only silenced them, but 
made them appear ridiculous as well. If there was 
one question which they ought to have been able to 
answer satisfactorily, it was this, " What think ye 
concerning the Christ ?" Were they not Jews ? Were 
they not doctors of the law? Were they not pro- 
fessed expounders of the Scriptures ? And was not 
the Christ the main object of Hebrew hope ; and the 
doctrine of the Christ the central doctrine of the Old 
Testament? One would suppose that no new infor- 
mation could have been given them on the inspired 
teaching of their own Scriptures concerning this main 
article of their faith. Yet they were silenced by this 
question, " What think ye of the Christ ? whose Son 
is He ? For David in Spirit calleth Him Lord : how 
is He then His Son ?" 

We answer at once that He was foretold in the Old 
Testament, just as He is represented in the New, as 
both David's Lord and David's Son ; " born of the seed 

43 



44 



FAITH AND LIFE 



of David according to the flesh and declared to be the 
Son of God with power by the resurrection of the dead." 
But if the Messiah was to be divine, why should the 
Jews upbraid Jesus — since He claimed to be Messiah — 
for asserting His divinity ? Their silence, therefore, 
proved either that they were not sincere in their 
opposition to His doctrine, and were governed simply 
by unconquerable hatred of His person ; or else that 
they did not understand their own Scriptures. If the 
latter, they appeared in a ridiculous light. If the 
former, their true spirit was unmasked, and their 
opposition to Jesus was reduced to simple wickedness 
and selfishness. 

The whole theory, in short, upon which they were 
acting was shown to be unfounded and insincere by 
this searching, yet simple, question. And we have 
only to change a little our point of view in order 
to make the same question equally pertinent now. 
Any theory upon which a man pretends to govern 
his conduct must account for all the important facts 
or else be confuted by them. When a scientific man, 
for example, propounds a theory in explanation of 
any of the phenomena of nature, if you can put 
your finger on one fact pertaining to the subject in 
hand and show that his theory does not agree with 
that fact, you have so far proved the insufficiency of 
the theory. If a lawyer be making out his theory of 
the case which he is defending, his opponent will 



WHAT THINK YE OF CHRIST 



45 



be likely to make short work of it if he can point out 
one important fact which the advocate's theory does 
not explain. Precisely so is it with men's theories 
of life and duty. Jesus Christ is, confessedly, the 
central figure of the world's moral history. He has 
to be taken, therefore, into the account ; He cannot 
be left out. And ever}' theory of life, whether merely 
moral or distinctly religious, must be prepared to 
answer the old question by which the Jewish rulers 
were silenced, "What, then, think ye of the Christ?" 
A good many of our modern, popular teachers simply 
leave Him alone. They have nothing to say of Him 
at all. But they cannot fairly do this : and I fancy 
that it would bring not a few back to their senses, 
and would hold up to ridicule not a few theories by 
which paper is wasted and lives are ruined, if men 
were compelled to give their serious answer to this 
question. 

I desire, then, to put the question to you at once, 
especially in its bearing on the common ideas of our 
day ; and, first, I will trv' to show the importance of 
the question ; yea, the absolute necessity under which 
men are of being able to give a plain and direct 
answer to it. 

In order to this, observe, on the one hand, that 
Christ is the kernel of Christianity — its living centre ; 
its radical principle; its creative thought. 

He is obviously the kernel of the Bible. Abstract 



46 



FAITH AND LIFE 



Him from it, and it remains a mere shell. Take 
Him from it and you take away its central thought — 
the idea about and upon which all its parts are built. 
He is the soul of the Bible. Hebrew history, of which 
the Old Testament gives the record, narrates God's 
preparation of His Church for the coming of Christ — 
her intellectual preparation, to understand Him ; her 
moral preparation, to follow Him. The New Testa- 
ment describes His advent and life, what the apostles 
taught about Him, and man's duties in view of His 
advent. The Bible is not primarily the revelation of 
God as He is in Himself, although it reveals Him 
to us. It is not primarily the history of man's 
religious progress, although it discloses this also. 
It is not primarily a book of morals, although it 
teaches the highest morality. It is not a philosophy, 
although it involves a philosophy. The Bible, as 
a matter of fact, centres in Christ. It is the reve- 
lation of God in Christ, of man's salvation through 
Christ, of morality as exemphfied and taught by 
Christ, and of philosophy as implied in Christ. 

I need not dwell on this familiar fact. You might as 
well take Hamlet out of Shakespeare's play, or Caesar 
out of Roman history, or the sun out of the solar system, 
as Christ out of the Bible. Now, let us remember that 
the Bible was written at intervals through a period 
of fifteen hundred years ; that it is the literary monu- 
ment of a long movement which has affected more 



WHAT THINK YE OF CHRIST 



47 



profoundly than has any other movement the life 
of humanity. Let us add the remembrance that the 
Bible, as a whole and when gathered in a single 
volume, has been the religious teacher of the most 
civilized and progressive and practically religious por- 
tions of the race. Must we not admit at least the su- 
preme importance of the question, which takes us to 
the root-thought from which all this has sprung, and 
feel that no intelligent man ought to be without his 
answer to the query, "What think ye of Christ?" 

But, furthermore, Christ is not only the kernel of 
the book which we call the Bible, but He is the 
kernel also of that system of belief which constitutes 
the Christian creed. The Christian creed is not a 
number of independent articles of belief tied together 
by the Church, like a bundle of sticks tied together by 
a string. It is a system of belief in which every part 
grows out of one central truth, as the branches of a 
tree grow out of the trunk. It is a fact of history that 
the definite statement by the Church of this system 
grew out of the questions concerning its belief in Jesus 
Christ and the logical inferences drawn from it; and 
the historian can trace the progress of the Church's 
apprehension of what is taught in the Bible along the 
line of its faith in its great Founder. The consequence 
is that if a man tell you what he thinks of Christ, you 
can tell pretty clearly what he thinks about all the 
other principal points of Christianity. 



48 



FAITH AND LIFE 



If, for example, he tell you that he thinks Christ was 
a mere man, good but not divine, a teacher but not a 
Saviour (in the sense in which we call Him such), then 
you can infer at once that the speaker does not believe 
in the Trinity, nor in the fall of man, nor in the Atone- 
ment, nor in the inspiration of the Bible, nor in regenera- 
tion, nor probably in the doctrine of future punishment. 
If Christ be not divine, then, of course, there is no Trin- 
ity. If Christ be not divine, then, of course. His death 
was not an atonement for human guilt. If no atone- 
ment for guilt be necessary, then, of course, man is not 
lost, nor does he need the power of the Holy Spirit 
in order to enter the kingdom of God, nor is it likely 
that he will be punished for his sins in the future 
world. If, finally, Christ be a mere man, then the 
Bible can scarcely be deemed inspired of God, at least 
not in such sense as to be an infallible teacher of 
truth ; for manifestly and, in our day, confessedly, it 
teaches that before His birth in Bethlehem He was 
the Son of God. I am not now contending for the 
truth of these doctrines. I am simply pointing 
out their connection with each other, and trying to 
show that the Christian creed is a unit and not a 
bundle of sticks, and that the whole of it depends on 
the answer which we give to the question, What 
think ye of Christ ?" That question takes us to the 
root of the tree, to the heart of the creed. 

But it does even more than this. It takes us to the 



WHAT THIXK YE OF CHRIST 



49 



kernel of the Christian hfe. Of course, this must be so 
if the creed be a real belief ; but it is worth noting 
separately. The distinctive thing which makes a man 
experimentally a Christian is his thought about Christ. 
It is not his belief in God ; for a man may believe in God 
and yet not be a Christian. It is not his behef in moral 
obligation ; for he may believe in the whole deca- 
logue and yet not be a Christian. It is not his behef 
in the Church ; for he may believe in the Church as 
an institution, and may serve her zealously, and yet 
not be a Christian. It is not his behef in the Bible, 
apart from what the Bible teaches concerning Christ. 
It is his belief in Christ ; and this not merely his intel- 
lectual belief about Christ, but his personal acceptance 
of Christ and trust in Him as a Saviour. 

Paul may fairly be taken as an example of what a 
Christian is, and he said : " I live by the faith of the 
Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me." 
Observe that his faith was in Christ, in Christ as the 
Son of God, in Christ as his Saviour, in Christ as his 
personal Saviour ; and that this was not a mere intel- 
lectual conviction, but a practical life. I live by the 
faith of the Son of God, who loved me and gave Him- 
self for me." So is it still. To be a Christian, you 
do not have to begin by accepting, still less by under- 
standing, all the articles of the creed. You do not 
become a Christian by uniting with the Church, nor 
by reforming your bad habits. You become a Christian 

4 



50 



FAITH AND LIFE 



by accepting Christ with your mind and your heart ; 
and all the new world of light which opens about a 
new convert is caused by the new thoughts which he 
has concerning his Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. 

Thus Christ is the kernel of Christianity, histor- 
ically and experimentally, in theology and in daily 
hfe. But more than this. He is the great, and 
absolutely the best test of a man's moral character. 
This is the second fact which shows the importance 
of the question given in the text. 

What we mean by it may be made to appear more 
clearly by the aid of some illustrations. Suppose 
an instructor, desiring to test the real degree of 
education to which a pupil has attained. He cannot 
do better than to take some particular author, for 
example, and ask the pupil's opinion of him. What 
does he think of Wordsworth's Ode? The reply 
will show the degree of knowledge and the kind of 
taste possessed by the pupil. Or if we may take an 
illustration from the political field, we should say 
that you cannot test an Englishman's political senti- 
ments more accurately than by asking, What does 
he think of Gladstone ? or a German's, than by ask- 
ing, What does he think of Bismarck? The reply 
will reveal at once his political sympathies. So if you 
hold a magnet amongst a pile of mixed iron and 
wooden particles, the iron will cling to the magnet 
and the wood will remain unmoved. Thus you dis- 



WHAT THINK YE OF CHRIST 



51 



cover not only the power of the magnet, but also the 
character of the materials amongst which it is held. 

In a similar way Christ tests men's moral character. 
The question, What think you of Christ ? shows what 
sort of man you are. Not, of course, if we only mean 
what your public profession is or your theoretical 
notions are ; but certainly if we mean what is your real 
thought, your inner attitude of mind. All that really 
sympathizes with goodness must sympathize with Him 
when He is fairly beheld. All that hates hoHness 
must hate Christ too. He said to Pilate, " Every one 
that is of the truth heareth my voice." And it is 
even so. The worst comment that can be made upon 
a man is that he rejects or dislikes Jesus Christ. It 
is his self-condemnation. If you were to separate 
every act of a man's life and every movement of his 
mind, and exactly weigh and measure each in the 
scale of an infallible divine judgment, and were to sum 
up the results with the accuracy of omniscience itself, 
you could not more certainly decide the moral worth 
of a character than you could by obtaining its sincere 
answer to this question, What think you of Christ? 
That would tell all the story at once. And that is a 
question which every one of us may ask himself 
and so at once learn his condition in the sight of 
Almighty God. 

We have, therefore, this one question to ask of all 
theories on which men are living. We ask it of 



52 



FAITH AND LIFE 



science. We certainly have no quarrel with science, 
but glory in her advancement. But when some man 
in the name of science produces a theory which he 
asserts will furnish the only true philosophy of life, 
then we ask, Well, on your theory, what think you 
of Christ ? And if he replies that his theory compels 
him to answer that Christ was a mistaken or even 
merely an upright man, we reply that his theory 
cannot be true ; that the testimony to what Christ 
really was is too strong to be doubted, and that 
whatsoever conflicts with it is thereby disproved. We 
ask the same question of the moralist. You say it 
is only necessary to keep the decalogue, to be just and 
kind, in order to be saved. Well, what think you of 
Christ ? Your theory does not fit Him. He does not 
fit into it. He manifestly believed differently, and lived 
as He believed ; and yet He is without controversy 
the model of manhood. This question tears moralism 
up by the roots. In the face of Christ's life it cannot 
be the right theory of living. So we might go on. I 
do not believe that there is one here who can put the 
question honestly to himself without feehng that it 
touches the very foundation of his character ; that it 
discloses to him infallibly his real condition ; that it 
either gives him reason for terror before God or reason 
for joy and hope, so that, as with the Pharisees, his 
whole life is sifted thoroughly when I ask him, " What 
think you of Christ ?" 



WHAT THINK YE OF CHRIST 



53 



What answer, then, should we ourselves give to this 
question ? Let me suggest in turn some of the answers 
which might be made in such an audience as this, 
and let us judge of the sufficiency of these replies in 
the light of the importance of the question as we have 
already learned it. 

Perhaps even here there are some who would 
reply only doubtfully. We think Him an interesting 
historical character. This is the response often made 
by the merely literary student. Without in any way 
accepting Jesus as a Saviour, or even professing to 
belong to His religion, such a one is unable to with- 
hold from Him a certain degree of intellectual homage. 
He sees the force of what we have advanced con- 
cerning Christ's place in history, in the Bible, and in 
Christianity. He admits that such a character cannot 
be passed by with neglect. Intellectual curiosity 
itself stimulates him to examine the real facts of such 
a life. It is a response also caught up by others who 
have little or no intelligent idea of what Jesus taught 
and did, but who hear so much about Him that 
they feel forced to regard Him as a remarkable per- 
sonage. There is nothing easier than to substitute a 
well-framed eulogy of some minor quality of Christ 
for the sincere confession of His greater claim, and 
with this substitute to rest content. 

It is not unfrequent to find men who wholly deny 
His divinity and His original teaching, loud in a pa- 



I 



54 



FAITH AND LIFE 



tronizing praise of His humanity and His liberal views. 
They can hardly avoid so much. The evident nobility 
of character revealed in the story of Jesus compels this 
much of interest in Him. He evidently was a man who 
rose far above selfishness and worldliness ; a man who, 
although belonging to a narrow race, had broad views ; 
a man, also, who with marvelous purity taught others 
to worship God. He certainly effected a great change 
in the history of the world. Though His Hfe was 
that of a wandering Jewish teacher and His death the 
shameful death of the cross, yet His name in a few 
years was written on the grave of the old pagan world 
and on the standards of the Empire. The enthusiasm 
which He evoked and evokes still, — the multitudes 
who find in Him their inspiration to all that is good 
and pure, — His own gentleness and sympathy, com- 
bined with stern self-consecration and unflinching 
obedience to duty,— all these and a hundred other 
facts mark Him out from among the characters of 
history as the most wonderful and interesting of 
them all. 

Renan closes his ridiculous and blasphemous hfe 
of Jesus, in which he has sought to reduce the story 
to the level of a romantic novel, with these admiring 
words : Whatever be the surprises of the future, 
Jesus will never be surpassed ; His worship will grow 
young without ceasing; His legend will call forth 
tears without end; His sufferings will melt the noblest 



WHAT THINK YE OF CHRIST 



55 



hearts ; all ages will proclaim that among the sons of 
men there is none born greater than Jesus." 

Do you think in this way of Christ ? But what 
does it all amount to? What change do these 
thoughts make in your life? What relation do you 
sustain to this remarkable character of history ? Does 
your admiration make you any more Hke Him ? Does 
it make you Hve any nearer to God ? Does it lead 
you to help on the cause of Jesus Christ? If not, 
what is it worth ? We answer, Nothing, — except to 
convict you of inconsistency, — to condemn you out 
of your own mouth. Here you stand before the most 
remarkable character of history, — before the grandest 
moral movement of all time, — before Him who in 
some way moves more hearts Godward than any 
other, — and you dare to take the position of an indif- 
ferent critic and to say complacently, Truly, this is a 
very interesting spectacle ! Is that a position for a 
reasonable man to take ? You would better not allow 
this interesting spectacle to depart from you until you 
have found out what it means for you. 

But another will perhaps say in answer to our 
question : " I think Christ a remarkable rehgious 
teacher, probably the best religious teacher who has 
ever lived, but I do not believe that He has been 
correctly represented by the Church, — I do not believe 
that the New Testament correctly represents Him. 
My idea is that He was a simple Jewish peasant, of 



56 



FAITH AND LIFE 



unusual religious insight, who had a real genius for 
moral teaching, who loved God and man with a super- 
eminent love, and whose substantial doctrine is ex- 
pressed in the Golden Rule and in the summary of 
duty, ' Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy 
heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and 
with all thy strength, and thy neighbor as thyself I 
think that He was led unwisely to play the role of a 
Messiah, while yet He was in a true sense the Messiah, 
because He taught true doctrine. He was put to 
death by the Jewish rulers from jealousy of His popu- 
larity ; but His disciples afterwards, having been per- 
suaded that He had risen from the dead, began to 
deify Him, and attributed to Him gradually all that the 
New Testament teaches and the Church holds con- 
cerning Him. I think that His moral and spiritual 
teaching should be lovingly followed. I think it 
wonderful that He should have taught so purely and 
so nobly. I think that all later notions should be laid 
aside, and that we should learn from Jesus the love of 
God and the love of man, and should try to live as 
simply and as beautifully as He seems to have done." 

Do you think in this way of Christ ? Let me point 
out a difficulty in your thought. It is this. What 
do you know about Jesus and His teaching except 
as it is reported in the New Testament ? People say. 
We will listen to Jesus but we will not listen to His 
disciples. I answer. How can you Hsten to Jesus 



WHAT THINK YE OF CHRIST 



57 



except as you listen to the reports made by His dis- 
ciples ? Who wrote these gospels ? Matthew, John — 
apostles : Mark, Luke — companions and friends of 
apostles, who gave their apostolic testimony. What 
else do you know about Jesus ? Have you some 
independent means of information ? Have you dis- 
covered some lost manuscript containing another 
account ? You know nothing about Him except as 
you believe the apostles. But if they are untrust- 
worthy in one respect, why not in another ? If they 
put into His mouth words which He did not utter, 
how can you receive any of them ? No, you must take 
all or none. You cannot pick and choose. You can- 
not distinguish between the veracity of Jesus and the 
veracity of His apostles. 

" Yes, but I can," you say. " I will take this 
Gospel story and I will expunge from it everything 
miraculous and supernatural and I will accept 
what is left. I cannot believe in miracles. I admit 
that there must have been some foundation for what 
the Gospels record, but I think it more natural to 
suppose that Jesus was such a man as I have de- 
scribed and that the disciples added the miraculous and 
supernatural element to the story." But is not this a 
very arbitrary position to take up ? Do you really 
think it fair to assume that no miracle ever took place 
no matter what evidence for it is provided ? Does it 
not seem evident to you that if God did send His Son 



58 



FAITH AND LIFE 



into the world, some miraculous signs would be likely 
to occur ? Do you really know so much about the 
laws of the natural world as to be prepared to affirm, 
" I will never believe in miracles"? And, furthermore, 
how can you account for the fact that almost immedi- 
ately after the death of Jesus, when His disciples 
began to preach to the people, they laid stress not 
only upon His moral teachings, but on His miracles 
and the supernatural side of His life? Read Peter's 
speech at Pentecost. Read the other speeches re- 
corded in the Acts. Read still more the early Epistles 
of Paul. In them you will find the Church's idea of 
Christ full grown. Now it requires time to make 
myths and to construct legends. In ancient nations 
mythology was the growth of centuries. But in this 
case you have to suppose that in a few months what 
you dare to call the Christian mythology sprang into 
being in the minds of a few forlorn Jews who were 
being persecuted for teaching it. No, you cannot 
forcibly separate the teaching of Christ and that of 
His apostles. You must take the Christ of the Gospels, 
or have no Christ at all, or else manufacture one out 
of your own fancy to suit yourself You cannot think 
thus of Christ. You must take Him as He is de- 
livered unto you, or else say. We will not think of 
Him at all. 

How, then, should we think of Christ? Can we do 
better than think of Him as His own apostles did ? 



WHAT THINK YE OF CHRIST 



59 



Paul wrote, " When the fullness of the time came, 
God sent forth His Son, born of a woman, born under 
the law, that he might redeem them that were under 
the law, that we might receive the adoption of sons." 
" In Him dwelleth all the fullness of the Godhead 
bodily." " He is our peace who hath made both 
one — that He might reconcile both unto God, in one 
body by the cross." " God was in Christ reconciling 
the world unto Himself For He hath made Him to be 
sin for us who knew no sin, — that we might be made 
the righteousness of God in Him." Peter confessed at 
Caesarea Philippi, " Thou art the Christ, the Son of the 
living God." " To whom can we go ? Thou hast 
the words of eternal life. " And in his First Epistle 
he quotes the language of Isaiah, applying it to Jesus, 
and saying, " Christ suffered for us, leaving us an 
example." Then John writes in his Gospel still more 
explicitly, " In the beginning was the Word," " and 
the Word was God," " and the Word became flesh." 
Standing in the exile of Patmos, the same apostle de- 
clares that he beheld the Redeemer on whose breast he 
had leaned, clothed in indescribable glory, and heard 
Him say, " I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and 
the end. I am He that liveth and was dead, and behold 
I am alive for evermore." 

They thought thus of Christ, and so should we think 
of Him. This was the truth on which Christianity was 
founded. This is the truth by which it lives to-day. 



6o 



FAITH AND LIFE 



I bring it to you not as a new doctrine of theology. I 
bring it as a fact of history, which has tremendous 
meaning to every one of us. It means that, though lost, 
the way of redemption is open to us. It means that 
God has descended in His Son into the plain of Hfe, and 
with Him as our helper we may live forever and not 
die. It means that you have only to cast yourself by 
faith upon the Mighty One, this Christ of God, and be 
saved even to the uttermost. It means that no sin is 
greater than the sin of rejecting Christ. It means that 
you may say from the heart, Rock of ages, cleft 
for me." Victims as you are of sore temptation, 
trembhng as you do on the verge of eternity, immortal 
and accountable as you are, here is your Saviour. 

I have tried to show you the importance of this 
question. I have shown that this is the kernel of the 
Bible, the kernel of Christianity, and the test of char- 
acter; and if Christ be what the apostles declared, you 
can well understand why He is the central theme and 
thought of all the ages. So I ask you personally, 
What think you of Christ ? I would press home the 
question. It is like a surgeon's knife, which cuts 
deeply and skillfully. It is God's home-thrust. You 
cannot parry it. You must answer it, if not now, 
then at the judgment day. What think you of Christ ? 
You men, busy with your professions and your trades 
— you women, in the home circle and in social pleas- 
ures — you bitter doubters and you sufferers from pain 



WHAT THINK YE OF CHRIST 6 1 

and death — you all who need so sorely to have heaven 
brought into your lives now, that when your lives are 
ended you may enter heaven — what think ye of 
Christ? Think of His peerless character, think of 
His tender sympathy, think of His anguish on the 
cross, think of His resurrection and His glory now ! 
He is your God-sent Saviour, and will you not accept 
Him ? You need naught but Him. You are com- 
plete in Him. Will you not give Him your hearts 
and your service ? Think much of Him. Take Him 
for your friend. Confess Him and work for Him, and 
He will confess you. What one of you to-night will 
say, as you think of Christ, He is my Saviour, my 
Lord and my God? 



IV 



TOUCHING CHRIST 

"And they besought Him that they might only touch the hem of 
His garment: and as many as touched were made perfectly whole." — 
Matt. xiv. 36. 

What an inspiring scene this was ! For the moment 
we see the man of Nazareth at the height of popular- 
ity, traversing His native land like a conqueror, while 
from all the adjacent district throngs of enthusiastic 
people gather to welcome Him and implore His 
blessing. He had just astonished the multitude by- 
feeding five thousand men from a few loaves and 
fishes ; and we know that that miracle produced such 
an impression that some were for taking Jesus by force 
and making Him king. The power of the hostile 
rulers was now at the minimum and Christ's at its 
maximum, and it would not have been hard, had He 
wished to do so, for the Saviour to have swept Galilee 
and Judea by a wave of patriotism, and have placed 
Himself, as the Maccabees had done, at the head of 
the nation. 

And now, after that famous miracle, and after 
He had still further amazed His own disciples by 
walking to them on the stormy waves. He landed the 

63 



64 



FAITH AND LIFE 



next morning on the western shore of the Sea of 
GaHlee and began to journey rapidly through fields 
and villages toward the city of Capernaum. As He 
advanced the throngs of attendants increased until His 
march became a veritable triumph. They seem to 
have hastened to avail themselves at once and in every 
possible way of His unlimited power. They brought 
their sick friends and laid them by the side of the road 
along which Jesus was coming. At every village a 
new crowd awaited Him. At every cross-road, on the 
banks and in the fields by the way, there stood little 
companies around some victim of disease ready to 
thrust the patient on the notice of Jesus. Yonder we 
see one sick of the palsy borne by friends, or reaching 
a trembling arm in supplication for relief ; yonder, too, 
another coming from a fever-bed ; there, one possessed, 
chained, perhaps, and led unwillingly to Him at whose 
word even devils trembled and obeyed ; and again the 
leper, at a distance from the road, seeking to conceal 
himself from the people but to show himself to the 
Christ, and raising his shrill voice in prayer for pity. 
And to all the desired help comes. As many as 
touched Him were made perfectly whole, and many, 
too, we doubt not, who could not touch Him save by 
the hand of faith. 

The scene, I say, is one to rouse our own enthusi- 
asm, as it did that of the people. It was as truly a 
triumphal march as that which afterward Christ made 



TOUCHING CHRIST 



65 



over Olivet into Jerusalem, The word " triumph " is 
the only one which is worthy to be given it, but it 
significantly contrasts with such triumphs as those 
with which the world has honored its illustrious men. 
What a contrast, for example, between these journeys of 
Jesus and a Roman triumph ! We picture the great 
capital dressed in its holiday garments ; the peasants of 
Italy thronging with the citizens the narrow streets ; 
the whole populace abandoning itself to joy and often 
license. We picture the triumphal procession : golden 
chariots drawn by white horses ; garlands of flowers 
scattered in profusion under the wheels of the hero's 
car; the bronzed legions who survive from the long 
and fierce war ; and in the centre of all, the proud com- 
mander who has made barbarians tremble at the name 
of Rome, and who now haughtily condescends to 
receive the gratitude of his fellow-citizens. But as 
the procession wends its way up the Capitoline hill 
that the Caesar may offer his sacrifice to the god, we 
note amid his train the slaves torn from distant homes 
to become his chattels ; we note the scars borne 
by his warriors in testimony of the awful perils of 
battle; we think of others left dead in the far East 
or on the bleak shores of the northern sea ; we fear 
that by such a display as this the Caesar is riveting 
fetters on the liberties of his country ; and we conclude 
for all its emblazoned pomp that this is in reality the 
triumph of mere passion, ambition, cruelty and crime. 



66 



FAITH AND LIFE 



But as we behold the triumph of Jesus, how different 
our thought! It is the triumph of love, it is the 
deliverance of the captive ; it scatters healing bene- 
dictions on its way; it is the proclamation of liberty 
from God. And surely we must feel that the round 
globe has never seen so grand a march as this hasty 
walk of the humble Son of God through Galilee to 
Capernaum. This surely was the day of which the 
prophet wrote, " Arise, shine; for thy Light is come, 
and the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee." 

Now I wish, of course, to regard this scene as pic- 
turing a spiritual truth. It is our belief that Christ is 
now the one source of all spiritual blessings to man- 
kind ; that He is as truly present among men now as 
when He walked the roads of Galilee ; that it is as 
possible now to touch Him as it was then ; and that we 
are as likely to receive the influence of His power. This 
is the central fact and doctrine of Christianity. Christ 
is the center of all good; and the one need of human 
hearts, in their weakness and sin, is to be brought into 
personal, loving contact with this Son of God and man. 
Hence the significance for all time of such a scene 
as this ; and if I can show you how man may touch 
Christ, and where Christ is to be found, it will not 
be in vain that we have looked upon this picture 
from His earthly life. 

Let us note, first, the spirit and temper which these 
people displayed. From it may we gather what is 



TOUCHING CHRIST 



67 



the state of mind in which we may hope to come, 
in our way, Hkewise into personal contact with 
Jesus Christ. We may infer, at the start, that the 
experience of Christ's presence depends on ourselves. 
He is always here and everywhere ; and, therefore, 
the reason why some touch and are blessed by 
Him, and others do not, is because of the difference 
in the state of mind between the two classes. The 
spiritual discovery of Christ is dependent on our own 
hearts, just as contact with truth of any kind de- 
pends on us, not on it. He is always ready to make 
Himself known, but we are not always ready to 
perceive Him. From the minds of these Galilean 
peasants we may learn the great secret. The scene 
before us may be likened to a revival of religion ; 
and we all know that in the latter we discover the 
tests and the means of finding God. We realize 
that success in the great search turns on what we 
are ; and hence the first thing to be learned is, what 
must there be in our hearts to open the way to the 
feet of Jesus. 

I say, " in our hearts ; " for we should find that to 
touch Christ really is far more the work of the heart 
than of the intellect. It is sometimes imagined that 
He can be found through mere investigation and 
reason. This is the way of the student. He follows 
the path of history back to the spot where Christ 
is met. He investigates His life ; examines the con- 



68 



FAITH AND LIFE 



ditions of His age ; seeks to sift the evidence for His 
reported works and sayings : and concludes forth- 
with that Jesus either is or is not what His followers 
assert. Such a process is necessary, and should 
be undertaken by all who can undertake it; but 
be it remembered that it is not personal contact 
with Christ. The investigation may result in the 
fullest confession of Christ's truth, and yet the in- 
vestigator may not have touched Him in any 
spiritual sense. With his intellectual conviction he 
may turn away almost as little helped in soul by 
the influence of Jesus as though he had gazed at Him 
from a great distance. 

On the other hand, it is sometimes imagined that 
the soul will necessarily touch Christ by using those 
introductory appliances of religion in which Christ's 
people are wont to express their love and faith. I 
mean the ordinances of religion — the word, the 
Church, the sacraments, prayer. In all of these, as 
I shall show directly, Christ is to be found ; but not 
necessarily, and never if we use them in the wrong 
way. Again, therefore, we are thrown back on our 
own hearts, as that on which the touching of Christ 
depends. They are the eyes, with which we see, and 
the ears, with which we hear. They are the fingers, 
with which we reach forward. If a man would find 
the benefit of Christ, would feel Christ's influence for 
good, he must, first of all, see that his own heart is 



TOUCHING CHRIST 



69 



in such a state as, from our text, we learn that the 
hearts of these GaHlean peasants were. It is a mat- 
ter of individual spiritual life. 

When we consider them, we find that the condi- 
tions of the soul's touching Christ are very simple, 
and consist of but two things : on the one hand, a 
real, earnest, honest desire for Christ's gift, and, on 
the other, implicit confidence that He can and will 
give it. Desire and trust : that is all the secret. 
Real want and simple trust. What easier than 
these, one would think ! And yet how they probe 
into and reprove our common ways of seeking Him ! 

For the desire which succeeds in finding Christ is 
no languid, half-hearted wish, but real spiritual long- 
ing. Look again at the scene pictured in the text. 
Those people clearly knew what they wanted. They 
had certain specific ills for which they sought relief 
These ills were the pressing afflictions of their lives — 
matters, perhaps, of life and death to them ; and their 
desire for Christ's gift had all the intensity in it with 
which a man seeks health and strength. If this be 
the type of an inquirer's mind, how different is it 
from what we commonly behold. We cannot see 
the hearts of men ; but only here and there do we 
seem to see those who long for Christ and God 
as for their lives, and hence it is no wonder that so 
few possess the key which will open the door of His 
presence-chamber. And, moreover, in this matter we 



70 



FAITH AND LIFE 



should remember that our desire should be directly 
for Christ's blessing. We often err in this. We want 
the consequences of religion, but not religion itself 
We want the gain of godliness, but not godliness 
itself We desire deliverance from punishment, but 
not deliverance from sin. In our text, however, the 
diseases of which these Galileans complained are 
pictures of our spiritual diseases, of our sins and 
weaknesses, and, therefore, the desire which finds 
Christ must be for their cure. No man will ever 
really touch the mighty Saviour who is not filled 
with a longing for a pure, Christ-like life so strong 
as to be the chief motive of his mind. 

Is it not true that God is always found less by 
the intellect than by the heart? You may prove 
His existence and discuss His nature by the reason; 
but you know Him by the heart. You may likewise 
prove and discuss a doctrine of Christianity, such as that 
of the Providence of God ; but you never feel it to be 
true till in your life you discover that He actually has 
led and protected you. You may prove and investigate 
a force of nature, determine its power and its properties ; 
but you cannot know it thus as you would do if you 
used it for practical purposes or came under its actual 
influence. And so it is with God. The pure in heart, 
they shall see Him. They that seek for Him as silver 
and search as for hid treasure, they shall find out the 
knowledge of God. He reveals Himself to the heart 



TOUCHING CHRIST 



71 



of man. We feel Him ; we do not see Him. We 
experience Him ; we do not merely demonstrate 
Him, You will come far nearer God by sinking into 
the depths of a pure heart than by ascending to the 
loftiest height of philosophy and reason. And, there- 
fore, with His Son the same rule holds. Earnest 
desire, the longing of a heart for holiness, the sin- 
cere wish to be free from the moral disease of life — 
this is the strength of arm by which we may touch. 
By this, and by this alone, are we able to exert 
aright that faith which in its turn is the hand which 
we actually lay on the hem of His garment as He 
passes by. 

Then, to our desire we must add implicit trust, in 
order to come into close and helpful contact with the 
Lord Jesus. If a man have real, earnest longing for 
Christ's gift, and then simply trust Christ's promise, 
he is sure to find Christ able to save, and Christ will 
fill that man's heart with His blessing, and he will 
feel that he has found the source and giver of spiritual 
life. Truly, it is marvellous how simple are the means 
by which the greatest good possible to man may be 
had. It was a simple thing to touch the hem of 
Christ's garment, and yet the very simplicity of the 
act attests the strong confidence these people had in 
His power. It is a no less simple thing to rest upon 
His power and promise now ; and yet this also attests 
a strong and childHke confidence. 



72 



FAITH AND LIFE 



Of course, the doubting spirit will at once rise up and 
say, You are believing with the credulity of children. 
You are trusting without any guarantee. What you 
imagine to be Christ's blessing, is in truth but the prod- 
uct of your own mind. Even if so, we reply, the product 
is a good one, come whence it may ; better far than 
the product of doubt. But it is not credulity. If there 
has ever been any one who, by character and by His 
acts, and by the world's knowledge of Him, has proved 
Himself worthy of confidence, that person is Jesus. 
Was it credulity in these Galilean peasants to trust 
Him, when on the day before He had fed five thousand 
men with five loaves and a few fishes ? And is it 
credulity in us to trust Him, when through eighteen 
hundred years He has fed and blessed millions more ? 
We think not; and we are sure that the hght and 
peace and purity which flow into our hearts when by 
faith they touch Jesus are not illusions, but are the 
real fulfillment of His promise and the proof of His 
claim that " all power and authority are His, in heaven 
and on earth." 

If these conditions be present, it is possible, I say, 
to touch Jesus Christ. There will be all the effect 
as if the touch were physical. The mind will grasp 
His thought, the heart respond to His command, the 
truth dawn clear and bright. Here, then, is the 
way to perform this sublime act. Christ Jesus is not 
inaccessible. These poor, conscience-smitten, sinful 



TOUCHING CHRIST 



71 



souls about us may feel the virtue of the great Healer. 
He is nigh unto all them that call upon Him. He is 
with us alway, even to the end of the world. There 
is this remedy for human ill and sin, and it will be as 
glad a day for a man now if he touch in reality the 
mighty Christ as it was for those men and women of 
Galilee. Real desire and simple faith — these are the 
whole secret. Faith the hand, and desire the strength 
which extends the hand. Only believe; only accept 
it as true, and it will prove itself to be true. This is 
the lesson which, with all our culture and knowledge, 
we have need to learn from the afflicted crowds on 
which on that bright day the heaHng power fell from 
Jesus as He passed through His native land. 

But you will ask, Where is Christ to be found? 
On what road is He now journeying ; what corners 
and through what villages will He be likely to pass ? 
So we may imagine the Galilean peasants asking, and 
in similar phrase is the question put still. We might 
reply, of course, that He is everywhere, and this would 
undoubtedly be true. And yet He still would be a 
vague and indistinct figure to many minds. It is hard 
to grasp the thought of omnipresence. We must 
localize even divinity itself, and there are by God's 
good providence certain places where Jesus is expected 
to be found, and where our desire and faith may sen- 
sibly lay hold upon Him. There are stations, as it 
were, on the great world's highway ; and to come to 



74 



FAITH AND LIFE 



these in order to touch Jesus is the special invitation 
that we bring. 

So we say that with desire and faith you may touch 
Christ in the Bible. Were we to take you without ex- 
planation into a great palace, show you its massive walls, 
its magnificent corridors and halls, and point out the 
handiwork of ancient days, and then show how poster- 
ity has added to the art and invention of antiquity, you 
would ask, For whom is all this magnificence, and to 
whom does the structure belong ? The answer would 
be given by taking you finally into the presence of the 
king. So when science shows you the marvels of the 
human body, explains how the tissue is a mass of 
minute cells, how the blood courses through the 
arteries and veins, how each bone and muscle has its 
exact part to play, and how nature has lavished its 
choicest skill in the construction of such a delicate 
machine, you naturally ask, For what purpose has this 
wonderful organism been made ? And we think that 
in spite of all skepticism we should be right in answer- 
ing, it has been made for the habitation of an immortal 
soul ; and though you cannot see or touch the soul, 
the body is but the soul's garment, through which its 
power issues forth. 

In much the same way would we lead you to the 
Bible. We show you in it a piece of literature whose 
early parts reach back in date of composition to 
remote ages. We show you choice historical records, 



TOUCHING CHRIST 



75 



the literature of a people which has affected more 
than any other the moral sentiment of the world. 
Here are materials for research the Hke of which 
are scarcely matched by the hieroglyphs of Egypt 
or the bricks of Nineveh. Here are ancient songs 
that utter the noblest aspirations of the human 
heart; and here are prophetic visions by which the 
eye of antiquity looked dimly into the future. Above 
all, here is a sturdy, inflexible love of righteousness, 
faith in God and in His government, which stand in 
marked contrast to all other literature that has de- 
scended from the remote past. And now by a singular 
providence the literature has been completed by the 
story of the early days of the Gospel, and the whole 
has been preserved and united into one volume, 
and if you ask why, we answer that it may reveal and 
explain and exhibit Jesus Christ. For nothing else 
has it been done, since this purpose includes all lesser 
ones. He is its Alpha and its Omega. I need not 
demonstrate this, though I am persuaded that few have 
any just idea of how extensively and completely Christ 
underlies the surface of Scripture. You may find 
Him everywhere. It is Christ who sanctifies the Bible. 
It is Christ who certifies to us that the Bible is from 
God. It is Christ who gives the Bible its value, its 
power to purify society, its authority to regulate belief. 
Never can I impress too deeply on your minds the 
truth that He is the sum and the substance, the 



76 



FAITH AND LIFE 



author and the subject, the centre and the soul of 
this great Book. 

Now if a man have no deep desire for Christ and 
have a skeptical, doubting spirit concerning Christ, 
he may come to the Bible itself and possibly not 
touch Jesus. It may be that its nobility of sentiment 
and the influence of its subject will overcome his 
doubt. But it may not; just as I suppose that some 
even among those Galilean peasants sneered at the 
enthusiasm and faith of their companions, and of 
course won no benefit, even as they asked for none. 
But my point now simply is that desire and faith 
do touch Christ in the Bible. They find themselves 
satisfied with His character and with His promises. 
He is such a Saviour as they need. They find them- 
selves purified and elevated by contact with Him. He 
inspires their noblest thoughts; He overcomes the 
power of sin ; He shines as a light in the midst of 
darkness. Oh, what multitudes can testify this day 
that they have thus met and touched Jesus Christ 
and have been healed by Him. 

Moreover, we say that desire and faith may touch 
Jesus in the sacrament of the Lord's Supper. We do 
not, indeed, belong to the number of those who hold 
that the Lord's Supper conveys some mysterious 
benefit which cannot elsewhere be had. We believe 
quite the contrary. God has not limited His grace 
to such formal channels. Just as we believe that God 



TOUCHING CHRIST 



77 



may be known elsewhere than in the Bible, as we 
believe that nature is eloquent with His praises and 
the human conscience echoes His law, so do we 
believe that Christ may be approached in other ways, 
and be, in His own language, eaten by other means 
than in the sacrament. But at the same time, as the 
Bible more clearly reveals God than nature and con- 
science do, so does the soul often draw nearer to 
Christ in the Supper than at other times. It is a 
service of His own commanding, and the very loyalty 
which leads a man for Christ's sake to observe it is 
likely to insure a special benediction therein. It sets 
Him forth also by the aid of visible symbols, and so 
leads the mind, which always needs help in grasping 
things invisible, into a more vivid sense of divine things. 
In short, here is an appointed place and time for 
meeting Christ, an appointment which I think no sin- 
sick soul ought to neglect, and in which multitudes 
have found peace and comfort. 

And it is evident that the sacrament of the Lord's 
Supper is emphatically the exhibition of Christ. 
What gives it power? That its minister is an or- 
dained man ? No. It could be celebrated with as 
much benefit by those on whom no ordaining 
hands have ever been laid. Does its power lie in a 
priestly blessing, in a miracle of change, in any un- 
natural fact behind the obvious symbols themselves ? 
It does not. Does it he, then, in some special 



78 



FAITH AND LIFE 



virtue in the recipient, in his goodness, his fitness, his 
moral Hkeness to Christ? Again we answer, not so, — 
save as by fitness be meant that desire and faith which 
we have already found to be the universal condition 
of touching Christ, and which here, as elsewhere, are 
necessary. Wherein, then, lies the power of the 
sacrament? We answer, in its exhibition of Christ. 
He is " represented, sealed, and applied to behevers." 
Here men realize what He was and is, w^hat He did 
and does. Here the soul by vivid signs and pictures, 
and by the aid, we doubt not also, of the Holy Spirit, 
lays hold, as we say, on Him. It touches Him. It 
looks upon His face. It feels its true position in His 
sight. It believes His word. It feeds on His flesh 
and blood. It eats the living manna, and it may know, 
as multitudes again have found, that he that eateth 
His flesh and drinketh His blood, by real faith, hath 
eternal life. This is the bread of God that came 
down from heaven, that a man may eat thereof and 
not die. 

Nor are the Scriptures and the Sacraments the 
only places by any means where Jesus may be met 
and touched. At every spot where men engage in 
prayer and earnest thought there is Jesus to be found. 
I presume that every earnest Christian here has found 
that at times his prayer and meditation have been bar- 
ren and formal, while at other times they have been 
full of power and refreshment. The spiritual life is 



TOUCHING CHRIST 



79 



subject to a like change of mood with the common 
mental life. It has its ebb and its flood tides, its 
good and its poor seasons, its rainy and its dry 
months. There are times when we may be said to 
wander long and far in search of the great Healer; 
and again there are times when we can go directly 
to His feet. This is true of prayer, and the same 
holds true, likewise, of thought or meditation. 

I doubt if most of us reahze as we should 
that meditation is as much a means of grace as 
prayer. We are too busy, commonly, to think long 
upon religious themes ; we are too weary with daily 
work to think hard upon them ; and so our lives are 
not fruitful, until by some event God forces us to 
think, and it may be to think bitterly. Earnest 
thought is as much a place of meeting with Jesus as is 
the mercy seat : and yet it, too, has its times of power 
and of barrenness. Now the mind cannot fix itself on 
divine things, or can do so only in a cold and formal 
way ; and now again, thought springs unbidden to 
the mind ; memory paints its glowing pictures, and a 
keen intelligence of the Spirit interprets and applies 
them : and in so doing the soul draws near to God. 

What, then, we ask, is the secret of the power of 
prayer and meditation ? What is it that in its suc- 
cessful moments the praying and thinking soul finds ? 
On what, on whom, has faith laid its living hand? 
What form is that, which in the darkness, we feel but 



8o 



FAITH AND LIFE 



cannot see ? What influence is this which surrounds 
us hke a breath of heavenly air? Whence comes 
this strength, this joy, this vision of infinite brightness? 
Ah, poor soul that does not know the magic form ! 
This is Jesus, who was dead and is ahve again, and 
now is fulfilling His promise of perpetual presence. 
To touch the Son of God thus is the highest glory 
which a man can have. He has seen the Lord. 
He has touched the Lord, and he has obtained what 
ought to be to him the strongest possible evidence 
that Christ is able to save. How, then, can he doubt 
it ? Once, perhaps, like Thomas, he cried, " Except 
I shall see in His hands the print of the nails and 
thrust my hand into His side I will not believe." But 
now to him as to Thomas, Christ has revealed Him- 
self. He has said in effect, Reach hither thy finger, 
and behold My hands ; and reach hither thy hand, and 
thrust it into My side : and be not faithless, but believ- 
ing." He has made Himself known to His disciples 
as He does not unto the world. Their desire and faith 
have found Him in prayer and thought, and they 
may again exclaim with Thomas, " My Lord and 
my God." 

Now I have pointed out to you how and where 
Christ may be met and touched ; and I have only 
to add that it is as true now as of old that " as 
many as touch Him are made perfectly whole." We 
might describe the joy which filled many hearts on 



TOUCHING CHRIST 



8i 



that fair morning in Galilee when the sick and the 
helpless, whom friends had put in the way of Jesus, 
sprang up in the vigor of restored health. We should 
see here a leper, scarcely believing that his awful curse 
was gone ; there a victim of possession, marvelling at 
the pure and natural hfe which he had found again ; 
the blind gratefully beholding the blessed face of Him 
who was indeed God's messenger to him, and thinking 
it more beautiful than even those of friends or than the 
fair scene about him. What joy, we say, came that 
day to many homes in Galilee, as the gift of the Son 
of man ! 

And we might show a larger picture, in which a 
greater multitude would be represented, out of every 
condition and people, once sick with worse diseases 
than even leprosy, burdened with worse sorrows than 
disease — outcasts, some of them, and by their side 
others from homes of wealth, but with souls no less 
defiled, yet now cleansed and purified and saved. It 
is that picture which John paints of the great mul- 
titude whom no man can number, clothed in white 
robes, with palms in the hand, but whose garments 
are white because dyed in blood, and who sing " Sal- 
vation unto our God and to the Lamb." Such a 
picture illustrates our text: "As many as touched 
Him were made perfectly whole." 

How so, you say, when even those who have found 

Him in the Word, and in the Sacraments, and in 
6 



82 



FAITH AND LIFE 



Prayer, are still conscious of sin? We answer, 
Because their guilt is washed away by His blood ; 
their sins are forgiven them for His sake; the robe 
they wear is His righteousness, not their own, and 
the palms they wave are for His triumph, not for 
theirs. Instantaneous and everlasting has been His 
gift of eternal life ; and already the poison of sin has 
been abstracted, the root of evil has been removed ; 
already the pure life is dominating over the impure, 
and the resistance of sin to goodness in the heart is 
becoming feeble ; the leprosy is dying away, and soon, 
yea soon, in that heavenly kingdom there will not be 
a trace of its former presence. But because the cure 
is in this sense gradual, it is none the less true that in 
the other sense it is instantaneous and complete. 
Christ transforms life to a man. He opens a new 
world. He fills the heart with spiritual power. He 
wakens new thoughts, new loves, new desires. The 
old man falls off, a new creature in all essential prin- 
ciples takes its place. This is conversion ; this is 
regeneration ; this is the new creation ; these are the 
moments in which we find God and draw near to the 
Source of life ; and this whole result comes simply 
from the fact that by honest desire and faith our souls 
have touched Jesus, the Son of God! 

I call on you, who are His people, to keep your- 
selves near this Christ, and again and again renew 
your strength by touching His omnipotent person. 



TOUCHING CHRIST 



83 



And I call on you, who are yet sin-sick, who are yet 
unhealed — I call on you, as these Galileans must have 
called on their sick friends on that famous day, to 
come, and come quickly; come, put yourself in the 
way; come, reach out your trembling hand. For, as 
the multitude said to Bartimaeus, Jesus of Nazareth 
is passing by ! You need all that He has to give ; 
why, oh why, tarry till you have found and touched 
and been healed by the Son of God ? 



V 



BEHOLD YOUR GOD 

" O Zion, that bringest good tidings, get thee up into the high moun- 
tain ; O Jerusalem, that bringest good tidings, lift up thy voice with 
strength ; lift it up, be not afraid ; say unto the cities of Judah, Behold 
your God ! " — Isaiah xl. 9. 

We should do great injustice to the Old Testament 
prophets if we regarded them merely as predictors 
of future events. To us, indeed, who are chiefly 
concerned with later events, and who find in their 
prediction evidence of the truth of both prediction 
and fulfilment, this element naturally assumes an im- 
portant place in our view of the prophets. But from 
the prophets' own point of view this was a secon- 
dary part of their work. Their mission was primarily 
to the men of their own day. They were raised up 
by God to proclaim to the various generations of 
Israel the eternal law of righteousness ; the reality and 
authority of God; the certainty of judgment and 
award; the gracious purpose of God with Israel. 
They were preachers, political and social reformers, 
religious statesmen. Each one of them deserves to 
be studied by himself, that his peculiar personality 
may appear, framed in the particular circumstances 

85 



86 



FAITH AND LIFE 



of Israel in his day. Such a study will result in a 
gallery of portraits than which none more instruc- 
tive and various can be found in all the museum of 
history. 

Of course, treating of such subjects, the prophets 
continually pointed Israel to the future ; and, being in- 
spired of God, they gave utterance to not a few specific 
and marvellous predictions. But these will be valued 
aright only when the immediate purposes of prophecy 
are put in the foreground. He who would read the 
prophets of the Old Testament should not be on the 
watch for wonderful predictions, but should rather lay 
hold on the moral and religious ideas which those 
mighty men of God enunciated to the men of their 
own age, and through them to us; and because of 
which their faces were ever looking toward that which 
was to come. 

These remarks are preeminently true of the prophet 
Isaiah. No man, indeed, was ever transported further 
into the future than was he. None perceived more 
clearly both the immediate and the remote conse- 
quences of the course in which events were running. 
No man ever more certainly saw through the veil 
of futurity that he might describe, sometimes in 
singular detail, the events beyond it. No inspired 
writer has more perfectly met the spiritual needs of the 
generations that have followed him. And yet not on 
them and their needs, but on those of the living Israel 



BEHOLD YOUR GOD 



87 



around him, were Isaiah's thoughts fixed. Over the 
sins of his age he lamented. Against the unbehef of 
Ahaz he directed his rebukes. With Hezekiah he 
guided the reformation which that prince effected. 
His object was to call the people back at once to God ; 
to remedy the moral evils of his day ; to revive the 
faith of Israel in Jehovah's covenant and promise. 

It was for this that he directed the eyes of the faith- 
ful to that subHme hope of the nation unto which, as he 
reassured them, in spite of suffering and even by means 
of suffering, the servant of God should attain. Savona- 
rola, thundering against the immoralities of Florence 
and rebuking alike the Medici and the pope, was not 
more a preacher to his day than Isaiah under Ahaz 
was to his. Luther, guiding the Protestant reforma- 
tion under the protection of the Elector of Saxony, 
was not more concerned with the immediate issues 
of the hour than was Isaiah under King Hezekiah. 
Therefore, we shall best understand Isaiah if we re- 
gard him as thus bearing to a degenerate nation and 
a fainting church the message of divine righteousness. 
We are to conceive of him as a man whose mind was 
full of the thought of God. 

One day there had come to him a vision of Jehovah 
in the temple, seated on His throne, ministered unto 
by seraphim, who cried, with veiled faces. Holy, Holy, 
Holy ! On that day a live coal from the altar of 
Jehovah had seemed to be laid upon the prophet's lips. 



88 



FAITH AND LIFE 



that thenceforth he might utter burning words. He 
became from that moment a herald of God. Against 
all sin he declared God's anger ; against all doubt he 
declared God's promise; against all danger he declared 
God's faithfulness ; against all foes he declared God's 
power. This was the substance of his message. This 
was the burden of his soul. He was made a revealer 
of God to men. The people were prone to worship 
idols. Isaiah proclaimed that there is one only God. 
The court was prone to make alliances with pagan 
powers, to tremble before pagan armies, and to truckle 
to pagan compliments. Isaiah proclaimed that the 
only hope for Israel lay in God. This single but com- 
prehensive truth seems, I say, to have been the burden 
of Isaiah's thought; from it he drew his predictions, 
whether of salvation or of punishment. The character 
of God was his only stronghold ; the being of God 
the foundation of truth and of Israel ; and, therefore, 
when, in view of coming calamities, he sought to 
uphold the faith of the loyal remnant of the people, 
our text was again the substance of all his message. 
It was designed to comfort and to stimulate. It 
echoed the old word on which Abraham had fed, and 
David, too : " O thou that bringest good tidings to 
Zion," he cried, O thou that bringest good tidings to 
Jerusalem : lift up thy voice with strength ; lift it up, 
be not afraid." This is the source of all consolation, 
of all hope, of all spiritual life. Say unto the cities 



BEHOLD YOUR GOD 



89 



of Judah, Behold your God ! " To Isaiah's mind that 
was the all-sufficient word. 

And so, I think, it should seem to our minds. 
This is the all-complete, the all-sufficient word. This 
is, after all, the simple object of the Bible. The Bible 
is not merely a revelation from God; it is also and 
more especially a revelation of God. Have you so 
thought of it ? It is the unveiling of the hidden deity. 
It is the showing to us what God is. From this will 
follow what we are to do. But the object of the 
Bible is not to anticipate the future and not to answer 
curious questions. It is to reveal God, that we may 
go back to Him, and love and trust and revere Him. 
Its message is emphatically just this of Isaiah — Be- 
hold your God ! Let me try to make you feel what 
this language suggests. 

And I should like first to ask if this simple mes- 
sage is not one which men greatly need to have 
nakedly presented to them ? Is it not true that to 
most men God is not a felt reality ? There are few, 
indeed, who would openly express unbelief in God. 
Blank atheism is very uncommon. But the more re- 
fined agnosticism, which is so often in these days ex- 
pressed, would seem to testify that many people have 
the feeblest possible sense of God's reality. To many 
men of the world He is a dogma of which they sel- 
dom seriously think ; or a tradition which they do not 
disown, but the truth of which they seldom realize. 



go 



FAITH AND LIFE 



He is a reserved belief, perhaps, which they keep in 
a dark corner of their mind and seldom look at — an 
assumed but neglected fact — an occasional cause of 
fear. But He is not a living reality. He does not 
affect their conduct as their next neighbors do. He 
does not encourage and restrain them as even their 
casual acquaintances do. In no fair sense is He real- 
ized ; still less is His friendship cultivated. How few 
there are who actually share the sentiments about 
God uttered by prophets and apostles and saints! 
How few of all these needy multitudes can say, God 
is our refuge and strength ! " How few of all our 
dependent, dying humanity can feel, " In Him we live 
and move and have our being ! " How few can sing, 

My God, iny life, my love. 

To tliee, to thee, I call, 
I cannot live if thou remove, 

For thou art all in all." 

This is a poor blind world : and the reality of all 
realities, how few there are who feel ! 

Yet is it not true that this loving sense of God, 
as we may call it, is the specific difference between a 
really good and a really bad life ? Try to analyze the 
characters of men and discover the precise thing which 
radically separates between the good and the evil. It 
is not that some are moral and others immoral ; for 
men may be moral and yet have thoroughly worldly 
and irreligious minds. It is not that some are sinless 



BEHOLD YOUR GOD 



91 



and others sinful, for no one can be found perfectly 
pure. It is not that the good hold to one creed and 
the bad to another ; for men may hold to a good creed 
but not live up to it. What shall we say is the differ- 
ence between them — if we look behind actions to 
motives ; if we take into consideration the inner as 
well as the outer life ? Is it not this, that the good 
think of God, and try to please Him, and cultivate His 
fellowship and mourn over whatever grieves Him ? Is 
not this the root-fact of moral character ? The wicked 
are those who have not God in their thoughts ; who 
do not willingly draw near to Him. Goodness, on the 
contrary, is godliness. The good man is the one to 
whom God has been practically revealed — in whom 
God has become a power for righteousness ; whose 
sense of God is acute and constant. Like Enoch, 
he " walks with God." Like David, he meditates upon 
God. Like John, he loves Him. 

For I beg you to consider that this sense of God 
is not obtained by an exercise of the intellect. It is a 
moral sense, Hke the sense of right and wrong; and 
therefore it affects a man's whole life and character. 
The human mind can, I believe, logically prove the 
existence of God ; but who in the world was ever led 
to live a godly life by such a proof? The intellect can 
likewise prove, I believe, that there is a fundamental 
difference between right and wrong ; but who was ever 
led to do right by such argumentation ? It is the 



92 



FAITH AND LIFE 



sense of right itself which constrains to the doing of it. 
One man will have a sensitive conscience and another 
will not, and therefore one will obey and the other 
disobey. And so, to see God requires a spiritual 
awakening. 

How it comes, the human mind hardly knows. 
The Bible tells us that it is the work of the Holy 
Spirit. There comes to a man more or less of this 
sense of God. God reveals Himself to His child. 
We are not told that the intellectually strong but 
that the pure in heart shall see God. The con- 
science is quickened. The heart becomes appreci- 
ative of goodness and purity. The finite soul feels 
itself in the hands of the Infinite. The child realizes 
his Father's unseen presence. It is a complex feeling, 
but it is chiefly a moral, not an intellectual, fact. And 
therefore this sense of God determines the whole of 
life. Because of it a man will strive to live for what 
God approves. It will affect his thinking and his 
acting, his inner and his outer life. He is not yet 
sinless by any means, but he is in a fair way to become 
so. The root of holiness has been planted. He has 
found God, and that is the real difference between the 
good and the bad ; that is the beginning of heaven and 
of holiness and of peace. 

If this be so, then what the Bible calls eternal life 
may be entered upon even here and while we are still 
on earth. This we should infer from what the Bible 



BEHOLD YOUR GOD 



93 



says. "This is life eternal, to know Thee, the only 
true God, and Jesus Christ, whom Thou hast sent." 
Let a man come to know God, let him enter into 
this divine friendship of which I have spoken, and 
he already has eternal life. Jesus said, " Whosoever 
heareth my words and believeth on Him that sent me, 
hath everlasting life " ; not shall have it hereafter, but 
has it now ; in the very fact of believing, eternal life 
has already begun. I want you to feel that you may 
and must have this living sense of God here on earth ; 
that you may carry it with you not as a shadowy 
terror, but as your sweetest, dearest treasure ; and 
that if you have it, then you have found life. For 
around it all that is good and noble and pure will 
gather, as the verdure of the oasis gathers round a 
living spring. 

What is our need, then, but to behold God — to 
feel His presence, to admire His beauty, to enjoy His 
friendship, to obey His will ? I tell you, this is the 
secret of life. Perhaps you think merely of escaping 
punishment. Believe me, if that be all that moves 
you, you are as far from happiness as ever. You 
think, perhaps, to be moral but not reHgious. Believe 
me, morality, great as it is, will not meet the deep- 
est needs of your immortal spirits. You think, it 
may be, of even less laudable helps. You think that 
philosophy will support you, or human love bless 
you, or churchly rites sanctify you. But no ! Soul 



94 



FAITH AND LIFE 



of man, your need is deeper ; the secret of life is still 
undiscovered by you ; you need God ! You need 
to realize Him — you need to love Him ! This is the 
great law of spiritual life; for this the Bible has been 
given ; for this the Saviour died ; for this the Spirit 
is working. Let us face the whole truth and be 
satisfied with nothing less. I am not asking any 
great spiritual attainment. I am not pleading for 
anything fantastic or unnatural. This is the most 
practical, most fundamental of facts. Eternal life for 
the human soul is, and can be, found only in life with 
God. And therefore the old prophet, in his short, 
simple exhortation, gives the plainest and most direct 
of Gospels when he cries to men in their manifest 
and bitter needs, " Behold your God ! " 

But if so, then let us look directly at the revelation 
of Himself which God has made to us through the 
Bible, or, rather, of which the Bible is the depository, 
in order that we may be able to perceive more dis- 
tinctly the object to which the prophet points us. 
Isaiah bade the people to look to their God — to look 
away from their trials and perils, away from their 
sins and fears, to that Jehovah who had entered into 
everlasting covenant with Israel. The prophet knew 
that that revelation would appear most comforting, 
most inspiring, and that with their God in sight their 
courage would revive. Soldiers, fainting on the battle- 
field before the enemy's assault, look at the stained. 



BEHOLD YOUR GOD 



95 



torn banner of their country, and re-form their ranks 
and return afresh to the onset. Poor sick men and 
women, terrified by the seeming approach of death, 
look at the hopeful face and calm confidence of their 
physician and already are made better. Ship-wrecked 
mariners, on the very verge of hopelessness, catch 
sight of a distant sail and gather up their powers for a 
Httle longer fight for life. These are illustrations of 
what the thought of God, the revelation of God to the 
individual soul, may do. For the Bible stands beside 
fainting, tempted, weary, dying humanity with these 
words of cheer, Behold your God 

Now I do not profess to be able to tell you all 
that God is. The Bible itself, I suppose, does not tell 
all that God is. It records the revelation of Himself 
which He has made to us. But what glories are still 
unrevealed we know not : what majesty mortal vision 
could not bear; what treasures human hearts could 
not yet value ; what beauties flash upon the eyes of 
the angels and the glorified — this has not been told. 
We may assume that as there are stars not yet discov- 
ered by our telescopes, and mysteries of force that 
have not yet been revealed by science, so there are 
splendors and beauties of Deity which the human mind 
has never yet conceived. Nor can I even hope to 
describe now all that God has revealed Himself to 
be. For this you must study the Scriptures by the 
aid of strong faith and in the light of earnest prayer. 



96 



FAITH AND LIFE 



You will find that what the Bible calls " the fijUness 
of God " is marvellous. Most of us take in but 
fragments of His revelation — side gleams and fitful 
flashes of His glory. Most of us are so deeply im- 
pressed with some features of His character as to 
forget others. You know that there has been no 
more fruitful source of error than just this. Men take 
part of truth and consider it the whole. They take 
partial views of God and deduce from these their 
whole theology. Against this we must always strive 
by seeking from the written word itself clearer and 
broader views, until, in the experience of the Christian 
life, we are filled, as Paul says, with all the fullness of 
God. 

Let me only point you to some aspects of the divine 
character which seem to be specially important for us 
to behold. 

I would say, for one thing, behold the watchful 
interest of your God in the lives of all His children. 
He has so revealed Himself, and the fact is wonderful. 
This we may call God's moral nearness to each one 
of us. You know, of course, that He is physically 
near to all. God is omnipresent. We think of Him, 
perhaps, as living in heaven and with penetrating eye 
surveying the universe. But that is a partial view. 
Let us remember that He is everywhere, in all the 
vast extent of this universe, to which no bounds have 
yet been found; and in each spot present in all the 



BEHOLD YOUR GOD 



97 



fullness of His infinite power. But your God is not 
only thus near you in space — He is near you in heart. 
This is an even grander thought. He is near as 
Father. He is concerned in every event of life, cogni- 
zant of every thought, controlling every circumstance, 
tenderly watchful of every mov^ement of your soul. 
As a mother bends over her child, observes every 
motion, cares for every need, so the infinite God does 
with each of His human children. 

Did He not reveal Himself thus from the begin- 
ning? Behold your God walking in paradise with 
Adam ; speaking in stern rebuke to Cain ; communing 
as a friend with Enoch; journeying to Canaan and in 
Canaan with Abraham ; making Jacob's stony pillow 
soft at Bethel ; with Joseph in Egypt ; on Horeb with 
Moses ; inhabiting a tent among the tribes of Israel ; 
speaking through the prophets ; at last, incarnate in 
Jesus Christ — so runs the record of revelation. Is it 
not all a fuller and ever fuller expression of one idea — 
that God is with us ; that in Him we live and move and 
have our being ; that He knows our frame ; and that 
His watchful interest never ceases and His hand is 
never wanting to protect and guide ? 

This, I say, is God as He has revealed Himself. 

Behold Him! He is by your side. Were the veil 

of sense drawn aside, you would see Him ; you would 

see His smile ; you would be moved by His grief over 

your sin; you would be startled by His frown; you 
7 



98 



FAITH AND LIFE 



would cast yourself upon His breast. What solemnity, 
what carefulness, what joy, what purity, what hope 
should not this overshadowing of the wings of the 
Almighty cause ? To every sinful, fearful heart, how 
should the message ring, with mingled notes of warn- 
ing and of encouragement, Behold — behold your God! 

Bui we say further, behold the faithfulness of God. 
We know that God is unchangeable. We cannot 
conceive of Him as increasing or diminishing in 
any of His attributes. From everlasting to ever- 
lasting He is God. But I beg you to observe that 
He has revealed Himself not merely as unchange- 
able in nature, but as faithful in heart and action. 
Faithfulness is the moral side of unchangeability, and 
it is the most precious side. Relatively speaking, the 
laws of nature are unchangeable. They govern every- 
where. They have existed from the beginning of 
creation, and yet they waken no emotion, they bring 
no comfort to our hearts. Humanly speaking, the 
mountains are unchangeable. Their gray cliffs face 
the storms of centuries, and their huge masses remain 
apparently the same, while the scenes of human life 
pass and fade away. And yet they do but image and 
suggest a source of help which they themselves can- 
not afford. They are as cold as they are motionless ; 
they are as heartless as they are hard. But God has 
revealed Himself as faithful ; and here is brought to 
view strength and love combined. For faithfulness 



BEHOLD YOUR GOD 



99 



is being true, and God is true to His nature, true to 
His word, true to His promises, true to His children. 

How plainly the Bible record exhibits God's faithful- 
ness. It shows the original purpose, with which man 
was made, carried out in spite of sin, even at the cost 
of redemption. It shows the promise to the woman 
fulfilled in the victory of Christ with which the Apoca- 
lypse closes. It is the record of the resistless, onward- 
moving plan, which God had formed in the beginning, 
faithfully executed in spite of man's failure — faithfully 
performed in spite of every hindrance. Yes, He is a 
faithful God ; and therefore we may trust Him to the 
uttermost. To every one who is despondent. His 
word comes. To every one who hesitates to serve 
Him because of a sense of weakness or a fear of 
failure, His word comes. To every one who is dis- 
posed to doubt human progress and the world's con- 
version, or to stand aghast at the seeming delays of 
Providence, or to tremble at the approach of death. 
His word comes. Behold your God ! Turn away from 
the changes of life and behold Him, the same forever. 
Turn from the petty conflicts of men and behold His 
hand, which is outstretched to control them. Turn 
from delays and reverses as they appear to us, and 
behold His unaltered purpose which runs through 
them. Behold your God and doubt not; and fear 
not. Heaven and earth may pass away, but His word 
never. 

iLofC. 



100 



FAITH AND LIFE 



And so turn finally to the climax of God's reve- 
lation of Himself and behold His redeeming love. I 
need not remind you that this is the aspect most 
peculiar to the revelation of God which the Bible 
records. We know that He is righteous and holy, for 
He has so revealed Himself in our consciences. But 
we should never have known His redeeming love ex- 
cept through an actual redemption. And as we study 
the record of God's revelation, this love stands con- 
spicuously out. It is whispered in the first promise; 
it is manifest in the later covenant with Abraham and 
with Israel. It is proclaimed by the prophets : I am 
the Lord thy God, the Holy One of Israel, thy Re- 
deemer." It is foretold by the rites of the temple, and 
it actually did redeem us at Calvary. 

And so it has come to pass that if you would know 
God you must look for Him in the most unhkely place. 
The prophet cries unto men in their distress, " Behold 
your God," and lo ! to what a spectacle he points us. 
For there must be a brighter manifestation of God made 
than that which nature contains, though the heavens 
with their starry host and rolling sun and mighty 
laws declare His glory and the firmament shows His 
handiwork. There has been a revelation made of the 
Infinite more wonderful than that which burst upon 
the eyes of trembling Israel when the mountain shook 
with His footsteps and its crest flamed with the fires 
of His unapproachable presence. What is it ? When 



BEHOLD YOUR GOD 



lOI 



was it made ? Surely in some most seraphic form, by 
some tremendous act of omnipotence. Did the heaven 
roll back its curtains, that to mortal gaze there might 
appear the King upon His eternal throne ? Nay, look ! 
there is a rabble gathered round three crosses. On the 
middle one a Jewish peasant is transfixed. He is dying 
of fever and of thirst and of a broken heart. The 
mob are shaking their fists at his helpless form, and 
laughing at his agony. Then they leave him to his 
fate, and, under a darkened sky, surrounded by a few 
friends and a few soldiers, the crucified Jew expires 
with a loud cry. Who was he? Humanity, listen! 
The voices of angels, the voices of prophets, the voices 
of apostles, now at last the voices of many millions, 
answer, Behold your God ! Here He has laid bare 
His heart of hearts. Here He has revealed Himself 
most fully. God is love. He is redeeming love. He 
has died in the person of His Son to save the lost. 
This indeed is the climax of the revelation of God. 

"Well might the sun in darkness hide, 
And shut its glories in, 
When God, the mighty maker, died 
For man, the creature's, sin." 

Look, ye sinners, ye needy mortals, ye sin-cursed 
and perishing — look, behold your God ! Pilate brought 
Him out before the multitude, crowned with thorns 
and robed in mocking purple, and said, " Behold the 
man." But we bring Him forth crowned with the ap- 



102 



FAITH AND LIFE 



probation of His Father, robed in the vestments of 
heaven. We bring Him forth crucified, and say with 
the prophet, Behold your God !" If this be God, 
then sin has found its cure ; then death has lost 
its sting ; then the curse has been removed ; then 
whosoever will may have everlasting life. And He is 
God. The resurrection proved it beyond all possibility 
of doubt. And because He is God you may have access 
unto the Father, and may live forever, being reconciled 
through Christ. God commendeth His love toward us 
in that while we were yet sinners Christ died for us. 
Much more, then, being now justified by His blood we 
shall be saved from wrath through Him. The crucified 
Christ completes the revelation of God. 

And so we press home on your thought to-day 
these words of Isaiah, with all their fuller meaning, 
Behold your God ! Through the revelation of Himself 
which He has made you may enter into life with Him, 
you may find Him now, you may discover the secret 
of peace and hoHness. By Him God will come into 
your lives if you will let Him. Thus you may con- 
quer every spiritual foe. You may walk with Him 
like Enoch, and work for Him Hke Paul, and love Him 
like John : only keep your gaze fixed upon Him. In 
every hour of temptation and of trial, in times of 
despondency, in the common work of life, amid the 
dust of the highway, in the quiet of your home, look 
unto Him. Behold your God ! Let Him nerve you. 



BEHOLD YOUR GOD 



103 



let Him inspire you, let Him hold you up. Live as 
seeing Him who is invisible. Keep your sight fixed 
upon the Father revealed in Jesus. Live and die with 
Him for your dearest thought, and when you pass 
from earth you shall see, as now you cannot ; you shall 
hear the guardian angels that bear your soul into the 
light of heaven cry to you at last, Behold Him — 
Behold your God ! His name is Immanuel — God 
with us. His cross is our banner, and He Himself is 
our shield and our great reward. 



I 



VI 



THE KEEPER OF ISRAEL 

Behold, He that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep." — 
Psalm cxxi. 4. 

To realize the presence and activity of God is one 
of the greatest delights of a spiritual mind. To such 
a man God is not an object of fear, but the cause of 
peace and the ground of hope. The more vivid the 
sense of His being becomes, the more joyous does 
life appear, the more beautiful is nature, the more 
promising is the future. Without God, life is an un- 
explained enigma ; no sufficient reason for it can be 
found, no guide to its mysteries, no clue to its mean- 
ing. Nor has a cold, formal belief in Him any 
value for practical purposes. He must be felt in order 
to satisfy; He must be reaHzed by a willing and 
loving heart in order that He may still the turmoil of 
the mind by the power of His manifested love. When 
He is thus reahzed, it is as though an everlasting 
rock had been revealed beneath our feet; as though 
the day had broken after a weary, restless night ; as 
though a lost and frightened wanderer had found a 
friend. Then may the mind contemplate His infinite 
attributes with awful joy, and, conscious at last that it 

105 



io6 



FAITH AND LIFE 



lives, moves and has its being in Him, draw both hoH- 
ness and comfort from every one of the qualities which 
He possesses. 

It was for such a mood that this Psalm and this text 
were framed. In the lofty citadel of Mount Zion the 
Psalmist saw in thought the never-sleeping, ever-active 
Jehovah. His power was exercised throughout all 
nature and in the least event of Providence. He guided 
sun and moon in their courses, and He preserved 
in safety the humblest of His people. With intense 
delight did this believer, who seems to have felt 
greatly the need of divine protection, turn this thought 
over in his mind. Whether he scanned the firma- 
ment with its countless stars, or the perils of pestilence 
and famine upon earth ; or whether he considered the 
moral dangers to which he was exposed on every hand 
and the ease with which his feeble feet might slip in 
life's uncertain pilgrimage; he was consoled by the 
knowledge that He that keeps Israel shall neither 
slumber nor sleep. 

What a contrast between this sense of God and 
the cold, unmoving thoughts of Him which most 
men have ! Is it not the fact that to most He 
seems asleep ? They cannot recognize Him in the 
world of nature, which seems to them to grind out 
results like a huge and blind machine. The only idea 
which they have of a manifestation of God is some- 
thing which interrupts the usual course of events or 



THE KEEPER OF ISRAEL 



107 



forces the existence of a supernatural cause upon their 
eyes and ears. And when this does not occur, the 
round of work and play goes forward and God fades 
from their thoughts. If they pray, they feel like Baal's 
priests, who, in Elijah's satire, had to waken their deity 
from slumber or recall him from a journey. Their 
fancy has placed Him in the heavens, far beyond the 
level of human life, like the gods of Epicurus, who 
feasted in serene enjoyment in the heavenly regions 
without care for earthly matters. Under the influence 
of such ideas religion dwindles to insignificant pro- 
portions. It loses its eye for the invisible. It becomes 
the cry of the deserted Hagar in the wilderness. And 
while there may be retained a formal faith in Deity, the 
march of man along his weary road must go on without 
Him until, perchance, in some better world, the soul 
shall return to Him who made it. 

Not such is the Bible idea of a living God ; not 
such was the Hebrew, not such is our Christian, faith. 
We hold that He is not far from any one of us ; 
and our support in every danger of body and of mind 
is this : " Behold, He that keepeth Israel shall neither 
slumber nor sleep." Let me inquire with you if this 
confidence be well founded. Is the text true, and 
how ? Let me help you to realize the ceaseless activ- 
ity of God and the comfort and confidence which this 
truth should create. 

Every consideration, whether drawn from reason or 



io8 



FAITH AND LIFE 



from Scripture, should keep us from thinking of God 
as separated from the world. Some men, feeling that 
there must have been an uncaused cause to account 
for the existence of the universe, admit that God must 
be. But, having assumed His existence at the begin- 
ning, they have no further use for Him and insist that 
the world, having been created, has since the creation 
run its course without divine assistance. Back in the 
darkness of the past they see a single moment in 
which God was active. This, of course, involves the 
belief that He still exists. But for all that they can 
see He has been sleeping ever since He spoke the 
word which called creation into being. The world, 
they think, is running itself God is not in it. He is 
somewhere outside of and remote from it. He has not 
interfered with the operation of the mechanical laws 
which He imposed on it at the start. All that has 
come to pass in nature and human life has been due 
to the working of those forces which were inherent, 
though latent, in them from the first. 

It is obvious that such a view could not permit 
expressions like these of the Psalmist. It would 
not allow us to speak of God as " keeping " any 
one. He could not be our " help." We could not 
suppose Him to be preserving our going out and 
our coming in. We should have to call on med- 
ical science and political economy and hum.an friend- 
ship and beseech them to preserve us from all 



THE KEEPER OF ISRAEL 



109 



evil. Indeed, the whole Christian system is a protest 
against the idea of a distant God. That idea has no 
place in it for Christianity ; no place for an incar- 
nation or an atonement. Christianity insists that God 
will dwell with man ; that He has " pitched His tent " 
among us ; that, like as a father pitieth his children, so 
the Lord pitieth them that fear Him ; and that He is 
most intimately concerned in guiding the process of 
man's history to an intended issue. To think of God, 
therefore, as having merely created the world and 
left it to itself, is to deny the revelation of Himself 
which God has made. Besides, the theory is unreason- 
able. If there be a God at all, He must amount to 
more than this. It would be unworthy of the attri- 
butes which we suppose Him to possess. The notion 
is, in fact, but a mere cover for unbelief in God: nothing 
but an unwilHng confession that the reason itself can- 
not avoid admitting His being, even when it wishes to 
do away with Him. 

There are others who go further, under the press- 
ure of irresistible facts, and think of God as not merely 
the creator of the world, but as the watchful ob- 
server of its progress, and as interfering now and then 
when matters have gone wrong, to set them right. 
Still He is conceived of as separated from His creation. 
It runs its way for the most part without Him. He 
is simply watching it from above, as an inventor might 
watch an instrument which he has constructed. At 



no 



FAITH AND LIFE 



times he puts forth his hand and adjusts the machinery. 
He is like the superintendent of a factory : he does not 
run the machinery nor kindle the fires nor move the 
crank ; but, when a difficulty occurs and the machinery 
gets out of order, he is summoned to set it in order ; 
and when he thinks the time has come for it, he does 
away with the old instruments and forges new and 
better. So God, it is thought, at times has interfered 
to adjust the machinery of life and, on one great occa- 
sion, to set up new machinery ; but for the rest of 
the time He merely watches it turn out its product. 

This view, you see, has a place in it for Christianity. 
According to it, God is not seemingly asleep, and it 
might be possible for a man to speak of Him as his 
keeper. But it does not admit that He is always active, 
and therefore we insist that the theory is incomplete 
and insufficient. It still leaves man and the world 
for the greater part of the time separated from God. 
God becomes simply man's last resource. It teaches 
him to turn to God when everything else has failed, 
with a belief in the possibility that God may help 
him. Yet only some great occasion, some dire ne- 
cessity, will induce such a God to interfere. He 
will not always be thrusting His hand into His 
creation. We cannot expect Him to do it for every 
one of his countless creatures in the petty trials of 
their little lives. For the greater part of human 
life He is practically asleep : at least He is quiescent, 



THE KEEPER OF ISRAEL 



III 



even though awake. And, therefore, the greater part 
of life is separated from Him and He from it. 

Certainly, such an idea of God is utterly unscrip- 
tural. The Bible speaks of Him as the One in whom 
we live and move and have our being. Not a 
sparrow falls to the ground, said Christ, without 
your Father. He doeth His will in the armies of 
heaven and among the inhabitants of earth. It is 
not possible to escape from God. We abide under 
the shadow of the Almighty. If I take the wings 
of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts 
of the sea, even there shall Thy hand lead me and 
Thy right hand shall hold me. "Do not I fill 
heaven and earth?" said the Lord; and the apostle 
answered, " He is not far from any one of us." 

What, then, shall we say, and how are we to think 
of God ? We are to think of Him as upholding, by 
the constant exercise of His will, the very being of the 
world ; as being in it as well as above it ; as operating 
through its laws and forces at all times and in all 
places ; never once letting it go beyond His control ; 
never once allowing it to be independent of Him ; inces- 
santly sustaining and guiding the processes of its life. 
He is above and behind and in it. On His volition its 
existence hangs. He is not separated from it or 
limited by it, but He is ever manifesting Himself 
through it. We may illustrate this by the relation of 
the mind to the body. The mind is greater than the 



112 



FAITH AND LIFE 



body; the body changes its elements and finally perishes, 
but the mind remains immortally the same. Yet the 
mind dwells in the body, works through it, and is 
reached by it. Or we may illustrate it by an idea 
which has taken possession of an entire people and 
is moulding their actions, though the latter are intel- 
ligent and free. Both illustrations are partial — nothing 
can fully illustrate God : He is beyond all analogy. 
But only by thus thinking of Him can we understand 
the language of Scripture and give to Him His place 
as both the supreme governor and the fundamental 
life of all existence. 

On this view, observe the ceaseless activity of God. 
The regularity of nature, for example, is as much the 
result of His activity as any miracle can be. We 
observe that events in the material world take place in 
relation to one another according to a certain ordered 
succession of principles, which within the scope of our 
experience are invariable ; and these principles we call 
the laws of nature. But why should we infer that they 
are self-sustaining? Why should we not conclude, 
since so many arguments convince us that there is a 
God, that these principles are the methods according to 
which He has determined to have nature work, and by 
which He works in nature, in order that human Hfe 
may be stable, human knowledge advance, and the 
human mind learn the thoughts and will of its Master? 
And if at certain times for the purpose of teaching us 



THE KEEPER OF ISRAEL I 1 3 

exceptional truth, He has seen fit to work according to 
another principle, different from that by which He 
usually works, and has produced what we call a 
miracle, in what respect has He been more active in 
His miraculous than in His customaiy mode and rule 
of working ? He is as active in the daily sunlight as 
when around the cross of Calvary the noonday sun 
was quenched. He is as active in the storm and wind 
as when, on the Sea of Gahlee, His Son bade storm 
and wind to cease. He is as active in supporting the 
laws by which we get from the soil our daily food, as 
when He caused the manna to fall from heaven. He 
is as active in maintaining the daily life of man as when 
Christ brought back the dead Lazarus to conscious- 
ness. It is an utter mistake to allow our belief in 
those exceptional events which we call miracles, and in 
which we certainly ought to believe, to blind us to the 
fact of God's unsleeping vigilance in the support of 
that creation which derives its stability from His un- 
changing will, and which, in a true sense, may be 
called, as Goethe called it in a false sense, " the life 
garment of Deity." 

Thus what we call the Providence of God is most 
real ; and it does not in the least conflict with the ob- 
served laws by which our circumstances are affected. 
Every human being finds himself in a network of forces 
with which he has to deal in order to live, and from 
dependence upon which he cannot escape. He must 

8 



114 



FAITH AND LIFE 



learn how to live in view of these circumstances, for he 
cannot disregard them. He must use food, and must 
discover what food is wholesome and what is not. 
If he expose himself to contagion, he will take disease. 
If he fall over a precipice, he will be crushed. Only 
by observing and obeying the laws of nature can his 
physical life continue. Then, too, he is liable to 
misfortunes and calamities over which he has no 
control and which seem to happen wholly without 
regard to his deserts or moral character. A railroad 
accident is as likely to kill a good man as a bad one, 
and pestilence will strike its poison into the veins of 
the saint as easily as into those of the sinner. 

In view of these facts not a few ridicule the idea 
of Providence, and declare that no particular care is 
exerted by God over the fortunes of His creatures. 
So far as their present lives are concerned He is 
practically asleep. But is not this a superficial view ? 
As I have said, the laws of life are but the expression 
of His abiding will — the rules which He has appointed 
and employs in order that man may be educated and 
trained. For Him continually to break these rules 
would be to make our moral progress impossible, and 
to keep us forever helpless children instead of building 
us up into intelligent and useful men. Yet He is 
touching us and dealing with us as truly when He 
thus governs, as though we felt on our own hand the 
pressure of His. If He refuses to exempt us from 



THE KEEPER OE ISRAEL 



calamity, it does not follow that He is not watchful 
of us or is unmindful of our condition. He deems it 
better that we should suffer than that the laws which 
He has estabhshed should be broken. But this by no 
means proves that He is not keeping us in His thought. 

Our own experience shows that the laws and 
forces of the external world can be so manipulated 
by their Ruler that, without breaking any one of 
them, specific purposes can be accomplished by them. 
One law offsets another, one force modifies another, 
so that whereas any one by itself would destroy us, 
the whole taken together maintain our hves. As the 
earth is held in its orbit by two opposite forces, the one 
of which would bury it in the molten sun and the other 
would fling it into frigid space ; so in countless ways 
do we depend for our very existence upon the inter- 
action of established forces. And if a finite mind can 
use the forces of nature, combining them with one 
another and setting off one against another, so as to 
construct an ocean steamer or a telegraph, it does not 
seem unreasonable to believe that One with an infinite 
mind can hold in His hand the laws which He has 
made, and can so combine them as, without violating 
one, to accomplish an equally specific end. 

But be it never forgotten that the object of Provi- 
dence is far more than the mere preservation of 
physical life. Its prime end is moral training, and into 
that training the duties and the calamities of life enter 



ii6 



FAITH AND LIFE 



as a most necessary part. God may be caring most 
tenderly for one whom He allows to suffer. He may 
be smoothing the brow hot with fever that He has 
allowed to burn. We dare not estimate His provi- 
dence by mere temporal and physical good and ill ; 
these have their place in it, but they are only parts co- 
operant to a greater end. Though we be poor and 
needy, though we be overwhelmed with misfortune 
and sorrow, He may be thinking of us and causing 
all things to work together for our good. The mo- 
ment, therefore, that we learn to think of physical 
laws as constantly sustained by His will ; of their 
interplay as in accordance with His purpose ; of their 
movement as the manifestation of His thought ; it is 
quite possible to believe in Providence and yet to 
recognize the system under which we are placed. 
The more intricate that system, the more complex the 
network of circumstances, the more marvellous are 
its disclosures of the sleepless activity of God. 

Therefore we insist that He is ever active. He 
never slumbers, He never sleeps. Instead of nature 
being a self-evolving machine it is quivering with the 
thought and vitalized by the presence of Deity. It is 
not mere poetry to say, with David, that the heavens 
declare the glory of God, and the firmament showeth 
His handiwork ; or, with Wordsworth, that — 

*' To me the meanest flower that blows can give 
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears." 



THE KEEPER OF ISRAEL 



117 



God is not only nature's original creator, but its pres- 
ent master — the power back of it and revealed in it ; 
and instead of human life being the haphazard result of 
weak will and growing reason battling against iron-Hke 
and blind nature, it is a history of intended progress 
wrought out under the superintendence of a never 
absent God — a God who is great enough to control 
the whole vast drama, yet so great as to keep in con- 
stant thought each one of the millions of His creatures. 
We live and move in Him. His eyes behold, His eye- 
lids try, the children of men. We are at all times 
immediately present to His thought. He does not 
have to come down from heaven to help us. He is here 
already. He does not have to stop the machinery of 
life to care for us. He is working in that machinery 
already. His will is sleepless. His knowledge, His 
righteousness, His love are sleepless. He ever lives — 
He ever works. And as the thought grows upon the 
mind, how unspeakably solemn and hopeful, how awful 
and joyful, does life become, known as it is to be 
ever passed under His open eye, in His almighty 
hand. 

The thought of the text is that this ever-active, 
ever-sleepless God is particularly engaged in caring 
for His trustful people. It is He that keepeth 
Israel. The Lord is thy keeper. He is thy shade 
upon thy right hand. The Lord shall preserve thee 
from all evil. He shall preserve thy soul. There is 



ii8 



FAITH AND LIFE 



a wonderful richness of suggestion in the many times 
that the keeping of His people by God is mentioned 
in the Scripture. He said to Jacob, I am with thee to 
keep thee in all places whither thou goest"; and we feel 
quite sure that if God had not kept him, Jacob would 
have fallen a victim to his own sinful heart. He said to 
Moses for Israel, " I send an angel before thee to keep 
thee by the way and to bring thee into the place which 
I have prepared." And how He fulfilled that promise 
to the wandering, rebeUious tribes every reader of their 
history knows. But the Psalms especially abound 
in this phrase : " Keep me as the apple of the eye " 
(xvii. 8) ; " Keep back Thy servant from presumptuous 
sins" (xix. 13); "My mercy," said Jehovah, " will I 
keep for him forevermore" (Ixxxix. 28). So Isaiah says, 
" Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is 
stayed on Thee." Jeremiah cries in pathetic appeal 
for the people to repent : " He that scattered Israel 
will gather him, and keep him, as a shepherd doth his 
flock " (xxxi. 10). While our blessed Lord Himself 
prayed for His disciples, " Keep them from the evil " 
(John xvii. 15). All these passages, and many more 
which I might quote, suggest the breadth and depth 
of the meaning of our text : " He that keepeth Israel 
shall neither slumber nor sleep." 

Notice, it is Israel whom He keeps. It is true 
that His tender mercies are over all His works, and 
that His government and providence extend over all 



THE KEEPER OF ISRAEL 



creation and all intelligent minds. But the specific 
object of His solicitude is Israel, and by that term 
we are, of course, to understand the multitude of 
those who trust and love Him. It is to be used in no 
narrow sense. It is not to be identified with any par- 
ticular nation or any particular communion ; but all 
those who turn from sin and seek His face, all those 
who enter into personal relations of faith and love with 
Him, are to be accounted the special objects of 
His sleepless vigilance. There is encouragement in 
this for the Church. She shall not fail in the long 
war with sin and error. Particular churches may 
change and pass away, but the Church herself shall 
prosper to the end. The gates of Hades shall not pre- 
vail against her. She shall be disciplined and tried, 
purified and taught, but also extended and enlarged 
until she embraces in her fold all nations. For if God 
exist and be governing the world, and if He be a 
God of hoHness and of love, it is inconceivable that He 
should guide the world to any other issue than the 
victory of truth and the defeat of error. As we work 
and pray in the cause of our Lord we may be in- 
spired by the knowledge that the truth is not in our 
keeping and the cause is not dependent on our power, 
but that God is with it and will keep it safe. 

But we may apply the text more specifically to in- 
dividual believers ; and how sweet to be assured that 
each one who trusts Him will discover its truth. 



120 



FAITH AND LIFE 



He will keep His people in their every-day lives. 
Mark how the Psalmist describes it : " He shall 
not suffer thy foot to be moved." In this slippery, 
perilous journey the words promise what every self- 
distrusting Christian feels the need of He shall 
preserve thy going out and thy coming in. The least 
matters are not beyond His reach. Many admit that 
in the great moral issues of life He is concerned, but 
hesitate to beheve that He takes note of trifles. But 
trifles make up the great issues, as the sand does the 
seashore or the drops the ocean. Amid these He has 
promised to lead us, making the way in which we 
should go plain, providing those things which He 
thinks best for bodily comfort and household delight. 
He does not promise wealth, or fame, or greatness. 
But He will keep us : we shall not fall if we obey Him. 
And it is worth noting that when we have tested the 
matter it is found that just in the common matters of 
life do we discover the most signal instances of God's 
faithful care. Here, where anxieties are often so 
heavy, may we roll the burden of them off on Him 
who careth for us. Here, where the better life is so 
often crushed by needless loads and smothered by a 
heavy atmosphere of worldly worry, is the place for 
us to believe in God's sleepless vigilance and give to 
the winds all fears and doubts. 

But He will do more : He keeps His people 
from all evil. How dare we say it, when sorrow is 



THE KEEPER OF ISRAEL 



121 



the portion of every cup ; when temptation is the lot 
of every life ; when death is waiting to engulf us all ? 
How dare we say it ? Why, easily enough. If we 
trust and follow Him, He will not let sin obtain a hold 
upon us. He is able to keep you from falling and to 
present you faultless before the presence of His glory. 
He will not let sorrow be an evil, but will make of 
it a good : for though for the present it seemeth to 
be grievous, yet afterward it yieldeth the peaceable 
fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised 
thereby. He will not let temptation overcome us, but 
with it will provide a way of escape that we may be 
able to bear it. And when death comes, it will be 
found to have no terrors, but to be a welcome into hfe. 
Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of 
death, I will fear no evil : for Thou art with me. He 
does not say that He will keep from suffering and 
from sorrow and from temptation and from death. 
He will preserve from all evil : and we shall find that 
these are not evils, for He has transformed them into 
blessings. He shall preserve thy soul. 

Finally, He will keep His people to the end. Did 
not Jesus say, They shall never perish, neither shall 
any man pluck them out of my hand." When He 
prayed, " Keep them from the evil," did He not add, 
I will that they may be with me where I am " ? Oh, 
how helpless we are in this mighty world of force ! 
One blow of its great hammers and we are dead. And 



122 



FAITH AND LIFE 



not more helpless in this respect than in respect to 
greater things : helpless to deliver ourselves from sin ; 
helpless with even the keenest thought to pierce into 
the mystery of life or the veiled hereafter; helpless 
to attain the ideal which, like a summer sunset, shines 
above the hard pathway of present experience. Surely 
we need God. And as we realize His sleepless activity 
around us and above and beneath us ; as on closer 
inspection the world is found to be but the place 
where He would dwell with us, how blessed to be 
told that He will be our keeper, our protector, our 
helper, our friend, even forevermore ! 

I ask you to put yourselves into the keeping of 
this God. He comes to you in Jesus. Are you not 
already convinced of your unspeakable need? He 
will keep that which you commit to Him. Then 
commit your souls to Him. Learn to trust Him. 
Learn to pray to Him and to follow Him. Then fear 
not, fear not — not the world, not sin, not doubt, nor 
your own feebleness. He will keep you; and the 
eternal vigil of Him on whose living will the world 
reposes, and for whom nothing is too great to do, or 
too small to be beyond His notice, will be your 
guarantee that you shall reach the goal. Will you 
not trust Him ? Will you not commit yourself to 
Jesus Christ? Let this be your inspiration to do so: 
" He that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor 
sleep." 



VII 



THE FATHER OF THE PRODIGAL 

" But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had 
compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him." — LuKE 
XV. 20. 

We often study the parable of The Prodigal Son 
for the purpose of showing how faithfully and signifi- 
cantly Christ portrayed the life and fortunes of the 
sinner. But perhaps we do not so often use it for 
the purpose of studying in it Christ's representation 
of God. And yet this must have been the main 
object of the Saviour when He told this matchless 
story. It was far more important that He should 
disclose God to men than men to themselves. The 
latter disclosure is important and occupies no small 
place in the revelation of Christ. But soaring far 
beyond it in importance are the questions, What is 
God? How does He regard us? How may we regard 
Him ? Christ's statement of the way of salvation 
turns, therefore, first of all on His revelation of the 
Father. 

But besides this, the plan of His discourse on 
this particular occasion was to show to the Pharisees 
how wrong their views of God and of His disposition 

123 



124 



FAITH AND LIFE 



toward men were. They had murmured at Him, the 
professed Messiah, for receiving sinners and eating 
with them." This seemed to them abhorrent to the 
very idea of the holy Christ and righteous Jehovah. 
It was therefore for the express purpose of show- 
ing them what in reaHty was God's disposition toward 
the sinner that these parables were spoken. 

He begins with that of the shepherd who has 
lost one sheep, and from compassion for the lost 
one, leaves the ninety and nine and goes after that 
which is gone astray. The Saviour specially brings 
out the shepherd's joy at the finding, and the way 
in which he summons his friends to share it with 
him. So, likewise, he adds, is there joy in heaven 
over one sinner that repents more than over ninety 
and nine just persons who need no repentance. Then 
follows the parable of the woman who has lost a 
coin, and who, because of her sense of loss and of the 
value of the coin, searches diligently till she finds it. 
In this was taught God's valuation of the sinful soul; 
and this fact, no less than what was implied by her joy 
at finding the coin, was truly a new revelation of God 
to the men to whom Christ spoke. But man is more 
than a sheep or a coin — he is a son. And the Saviour 
dwelt at length on the third and greatest of these 
parables, that by His accurate description of man's 
wandering He might bring out still more fully God's 
marvellous love. 



THE FATHER OF THE PRODIGAL 



125 



This, therefore, was the main purpose of the par- 
able. The other figures are but to point to that 
of the Father. He is the one on whom we should 
chiefly fix our gaze. For the maxim, Know thyself," 
must be but the portal of another, " Know thy God." 
The discovery of self would but bring torture and 
sorrow could we not add to it the discover}^ of God. 
And if any of us to-day feel that in any particular we 
are represented by either of these two sons, we may 
appreciate in very truth this delineation of God, who 
is the sunlight of the new world into which Jesus 
invites us. Let me call your attention, then, to the 
character of God portrayed in this parable. Notice, 
first and in general, its representation of Him as 
our natural and most affectionate Father. It is evi- 
dent that in this word the representation of God in 
these three parables culminates. Tender as the re- 
lation between a shepherd and his flock often was, it 
was, of course, far below that of a father and a son. 
Much as the woman may have valued the coin which 
she had lost, she could not value it as a father would a 
child. These two former parables do but present pict- 
ures of what God is like : the third parable describes 
what He actually is. And it is so far above them in 
descriptive power that while Jesus briefly indicated a 
point or two of meaning in them, on this He dwells at 
length, that He may bring out fully the reality and 
patience of God's fatherhood. But not only did these 



126 



FAITH AND LIFE 



three parables culminate in the representation of the 
fatherhood of God ; the fact is that this was the distin- 
guishing feature in Christ's general portraiture of God; 
the feature most distinctive of His revelations ; the 
feature which placed God in a new splendor before the 
world, which drew men unto Him with a confidence 
and love which had seldom been known before. 

Men had felt before the majesty of God: so much so, 
indeed, that they had supposed it impossible for Him 
to stoop to the real care of His creatures. They had 
felt the holiness and righteousness of God : so much 
so that they deluged the earth with the blood of sacri- 
fices slain to appease His anger. The intellect had felt 
its way to the apprehension of a Great First Cause — 
of an Infinite Absolute Being, the source of all things, 
and perhaps the substance of all. Yea, men had felt 
feebly the love of God. But it was a doubtful and cold 
affection, or else it was so placed by the side of 
His holiness that the two seemed to issue from dif- 
ferent beings or at least not to fall equally upon all. 
God might love the Jew, but He hated the Gentile. 
He might love the good, but He hated the bad. 

There was thus wanting a view of God in which all 
that was holy and majestic was conserved, while at 
the same time He was perceived as lovable and near. 
Christ supplied it in saying to men everywhere, in their 
sin and shame, " God is your Father." When we con- 
sider its meaning, how marvellous are the suggestions 



THE FATHER OF THE PRODIGAL 12/ 

of this term ! What hopes it raises ! What confidence 
it creates ! What reaHty it gives to the idea of the Most 
High ! It means that God is hke us — a person, intelH- 
gent, moral — because we are Hke Him. It means that 
He is in a pecuHar sense the Author of our being. It 
means that He is our provider, our educator, and the 
one to whom we owe loving obedience. It means, 
above all, that He loves man and that with no cold or 
sentimental affection, but in such wise as, only more 
perfectly than, a father on earth loves his child — that 
He loves men just because they are His children, in 
spite of their waywardness and follies and disobedience, 
so that no being in the universe grieves more over 
their sorrows or their sins than He against whom their 
sins are committed. This, therefore, is the crowning 
feature of Christ's representation of God. 

It is true that men had oftentimes before Christ 
came called God their Father. The phrase is found in 
nearly all ancient religions. It was not the word 
which Christ introduced, but the full idea of the word. 
Men had used it as a term of dignity ; Christ taught 
them to use it also in its natural force of love. I quote 
from Dr. Storrs' lectures on the Divine Origin of Chris- 
tianity the remark that the term Father as applied to 
God among pagan peoples " did not in the least imply 
affectionate paternity. It represented supremacy only ; 
it was applied by poets to those whom they honored ; 
by slaves and clients to master and patron. But 



128 



FAITH AND LIFE 



Christianity shows the fatherhood of God in His spirit 
of love as well as in His authorship of finite intelli- 
gences, extending to all who are born of His life and 
becoming intense toward those who seek moral fellow- 
ship with Him. To them He gives gifts which the 
mind of the world had wholly failed to attribute to 
Him or to conceive possible until it was exalted and 
instructed by Jesus." 

It is true, also, that God is represented in the Bible 
as in a peculiar sense the Father specifically of His 
beheving people. And it is equally true that there are 
other representations of God in the Scriptures which 
we must not allow to fall out of mind. But it is this 
general representation of God as man's real, near, 
watchful, holy, approachable, glorious Father which we 
need first to learn. It exalts man ; it quickens philan- 
thropy ; it glorifies His righteousness : and, as it is 
finally revealed in the sacrifice of His eternal Son for 
us, it wakens, as nothing else can be conceived to 
do, responsive love and ready faith and joyous hope in 
sinful hearts. This is the fundamental truth taught in 
our parable ; and only with it as a background can we 
appreciate the particular features which Christ proceeds 
to add in His description of our Divine Parent. 

The first feature brought out in Christ's descrip- 
tion of the Divine Father's character is perhaps in 
appearance rather negative and unmarked, but none 
the less important. Christ represents, you observe, 



THE FATHER OF THE PRODIGAL 1 29 



this father as allowing his son, when at last he was 
of age, to choose and act for himself. He divided his 
living between the two brothers. In this is indicated 
very clearly God's refusal to force his son to act 
against his will. He allows man to wander from Him. 
No doubt the father of the parable foresaw the prob- 
able consequences of his younger son's determination. 
He perceived his willfulness. He feared its results. 
But, nevertheless, he allowed him to leave the paternal 
roof and work out his own destiny. He was a free 
agent. He was a responsible being. He must learn 
by experience what he would not learn, perhaps, from 
his father's lips. 

Here, then, Christ represents to us God's recog- 
nition of man's freedom and responsibility : and the 
fact is an important one for us to notice. Connected 
with the view of God as our Father, the thought 
becomes natural and finds additional force. This 
paternal government of God's is not merely the 
authority of law; the father is not exactly a king, 
though the children owe him as much obedience as if 
he were. But he does not desire merely to rule. He 
is not so anxious about the mere maintenance of his 
authority. He desires rather to cultivate the personal 
life of his son, to bring out the powers that are in him 
— to make, as we say, a man of him ; to throw him 
in some measure on himself, and to make him feel his 
own freedom and responsibility. 
9 



I30 



FAITH AND LIFE 



I think that this conception of God as our Father 
helps to explain not only what He does for us, but also 
what He lets us do for ourselves. The father is funda- 
mentally a trainer, an educator, if he realizes his posi- 
tion ; and the training will be accomplished not by mere 
restraint and exercise of authority, for so the soul of 
the son would be but clothed with the raiment, as it 
were, of virtue. The plan is to bring out the sinner's 
own life. This requires love and patience and the 
recognition of freedom, as well as instruction and 
authority ; and it appears to me that the reality of 
God's Fatherhood is most appropriately, though inci- 
dentally, shown when, in answer to this son's demand 
for independence, we are told that he " divided unto 
them his living." He did not send him forth empty. 
He was ready to bestow his own livelihood that his 
child might have the chance of making use of it. He 
was not so anxious to keep his own power and author- 
ity as to recognize the necessity of the son's working 
out for himself his life and destiny. 

But be that as it may, God's recognition of man's 
freedom and responsibility is a fact. It is shown 
in ways precisely similar to what is exhibited in this 
parable. Here are the children of God on earth, 
sinful and rebellious. Here they are trying to solve 
for themselves the problems of life and duty — seem- 
ingly thrown on their own resources ; compelled to 
discover, often by a bitter experience, the miseries 



THE FATHER OF THE PRODIGAL I3I 

of sin and the rewards of righteousness. What is the 
meaning of this seemingly independent Hfe of men, 
with its awful perils and mistakes, its many falls and 
sorrows, its slow, toilsome learning of the truth ? 
Does it mean that God does not care for men ? Not by 
any means, for He has revealed to them His will in a 
most stupendous way. Does it mean that God could 
not help man's fall — that He had not power to keep His 
child at home ? Surely that cannot be. It evidently 
means that He has chosen to throw on man's shoulders, 
in some sense, the burden of his own destiny : He has 
bidden him use his freedom ; He has permitted him, 
much as the result grieves Him, to wander and rebel, 
that so the human race might discover through its 
own experience its need of God ; might render Him 
in the end a willing service ; might be won by God's 
love and by the truth itself, rather than manufactured 
without its own will into what pleased God. 

You see that this throws at least some light on dark 
problems, and brings out most vividly the character of 
the divine Father. It suggests a reason why He con- 
ceals Himself from physical sight ; why He gives so large 
occasion for doubt, and hence for thought and search- 
ing after Him ; why even in His revelation of Himself 
in His Son he took an unlikely form; why, in short, He 
does not constrain belief and force obedience. Man is 
a free agent, a responsible being ; he is to work out 
through his own life the decision of truth and duty. 



132 



FAITH AND LIFE 



that in the end, if so be he attain to it, he may stand 
before his Father with a sympathy and an appreciation 
and a sense of truth and holiness which he could not 
have had save by finding them out for himself 

Be it remembered that this does not imply that 
the Father leaves His children without watch or 
care ; that He gives them no help and guides them 
by no paternal power. That, in its turn, would be as 
unfatherly as its opposite. It is purposely to guide 
and educate : while He would throw us on our own 
responsibility, He also stands near, though unseen, to 
assist us if we call upon Him. But He certainly does 
recognize our freedom and our individual obligations, 
and the necessity that our attainment and conclusions 
should be really our own work, as well as His gift. 
And thereby He lays on every child the responsibility 
of acting out the life, if he would enjoy the privileges, 
of a child of God. 

Hence, notice again, the father's patient, though no 
doubt anxious, waiting for his younger son's return. 
The parable follows the course of the prodigal. It 
depicts in a few strong phrases his downward career; 
his waste of the father's gifts ; his poverty ; his misery ; 
his final degradation. Then it relates his bitter self- 
discovery. He comes to himself, and in that far 
country he remembers the happy and plenteous life 
of his early home. At last he is penitent, and he re- 
solves to confess his failure and humbly to take his 



THE FATHER OF THE PRODIGAL 1 33 

place as a servant in the house where once he was a 
master. How thrilling is this description ! In every 
phrase we see a mirror reflecting some phase of life 
about us — perhaps of our own. But meanwhile, what 
of the father? The silence of the parable about him 
is, I conceive, as suggestive as its description of the 
son. He is waiting. Do you think he has forgotten 
his absent son ? His subsequent conduct proves that 
he has not. He is looking for his return all the while. 
He is waiting until the foolish experience of sin shall 
have been finished, all the while yearning for the 
empty place to be filled, hearing perhaps reports of his 
son's shame and sin, but patiently expecting the time 
of his return. 

Now it should be carefully remembered that while 
this representation of God is true, it is not all the 
truth. It puts before us that attitude in which we 
see the Father, in which He seems to us ; although 
elsewhere in Scripture we are distinctly taught that 
the Father does not wait for the sinner to return, but 
goes out into the far country to seek and to call. But 
there are many things in the divine action of which 
we may not be aware. There is an unconscious side 
to life. We are told by the apostle to work out our 
salvation, knowing all the while that God is working 
in us. We know that He is working in us, but we are 
not conscious of it. And so with this prodigal in his 
shame. He came to himself, we are told. But was 



134 



FAITH AND LIFE 



that all ? Do you think there was no inaudible voice 
in his ear — no unknown influence moving on his 
heart ? Most certainly there was. Unknown to him, 
the father was with him ; that new impulse and reso- 
lution were the father's call, his returning strength 
was the father's spirit, and the ultimate fact was 
that before he had taken one step toward the old 
paternal roof he had been taken in the arms of his 
father and was being borne home. Still, I say, he 
knew it not, and the object of the parable is to set 
forth that which appears to the consciousness of men. 
So far as any outward manifestation is concerned, God 
waits. So far as they can see or are aware. He is far 
from them and they are far from Him. He conceals 
Himself He lets them go their way. But no matter 
how far they may have wandered or how low they 
may have sunk. He is watching, He is waiting, for 
their return. 

I am very • sure that no representation of God 
can be better news than this to a sinning world. 
God has not disinherited His wayward sons. He has 
not decreed that they should not return. He has not 
forbidden the wanderer's name to be mentioned, or 
declared that He will not be reconciled. He does not 
have to be reconciled at all, so far as His heart is con- 
cerned. He is simply waiting. Oh, the forbearance 
of God ! Think how slow the race has been in coming 
to itself, how impious have been its blasphemies, how 



THE FATHER OF THE PRODIGAL 1 35 

shameful its sins, how black its rebellion ! God is no 
name, or shadow, or heartless law. He is a person ; 
He is a Father; and do you not think that He must 
feel unutterable sorrow over the persistent self-exile 
and ruin of these millions of His sons ? And yet no 
thought has He of repelling them ; and when we do 
come to ourselves, methinks our sharpest pang must 
be in the thought that we have trespassed on His 
patient long-suffering through so many, many wasted, 
ungrateful years. 

And now we are brought to the culminating glory 
in Christ's description of the Father as seen in His 
reception of the sinner. As I remarked at the be- 
ginning, this was the main object of our Lord in the 
parable. Men had murmured at His receiving sinners: 
He would show how the Father receives them. Men 
had sneered at Him for eating with the unclean : He 
would show how the Father welcomes such to His 
festal board. Here the description of the father be- 
comes more animated. Waiting and watching as he 
was, he does not even have to be told of his son's 
return. Has he not all the while been calling him ? 
Did he not see the first impulse to return when it 
sprang into the mind of the prodigal ? Has he not 
been watching him all the way? Men perhaps knew 
not whither that ragged outcast was journeying ; why 
his look was so eager and at the same time so sad ; 
why he gazed so shamefacedly at his tattered gar- 



136 



FAITH AND LIFE 



ments. And men may likewise not know on what 
great end the soul of another is bent — the mystery of 
his conviction of sin and his heavenward look they 
may not appreciate, or, if any do, they may predict 
that such as he will never be received. But not so the 
father. He saw and welcomed the prodigal before he 
was yet in sight, and when he was a great way off he 
saw him and lo ! — mark you, scoffing Pharisee, mark 
you, trembling, doubting sinner — lo! he ran and fell 
on his neck and kissed him. Hearer, remember that 
Jesus is illustrating God to us ! There is something 
almost daring in this description: were it not a revela- 
tion it would be almost impious to imagine God thus 
portrayed! The Infinite and Holy thus falling on the 
neck of an outcast! What boldness of thought! 
What audacity of description ! Yet, I submit, that 
no one has ever come out of the ruin of sin and has 
sought, through Christ, the injured Face, but he has 
experienced that which justifies Christ's language 
and which makes this scene of the parable mighty 
enough, through its revelation of love, fairly to change 
the world ! 

And so mark the cordial welcome home. God com- 
mands us to repent and to confess our sins, and the 
prodigal did so. But God's purpose in so requiring is 
not to mortify us by upbraiding ; for when our sins are 
confessed He remembers them no more. He does 
not, according to this parable, speak one word of 



THE FATHER OF THE PRODIGAL 137 

reproach, much as that was deserved and might have 
been expected. Instead of this He proceeds to make 
His child fit for His dwelHng-place, and to adorn him 
in a manner becoming His son. What if the poor 
prodigal had waited until he could have made a pre- 
sentable appearance ? Many a sinner does so and finds 
himself, after years of waiting, as unpresentable as ever. 
Fortunately for him, this prodigal came home just as 
he was, asking only to be taken as a servant, to be 
saved from his self-destruction, and the father made 
him fit. " Bring forth the best robe and put it on 
him ; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his 
feet." This is God's welcome to the sinner. 

The words make us instantly think of the robe of 
righteousness — the seamless, matchless robe of Christ in 
which God will clothe the penitent — the ring by which 
He will seal the soul's eternal marriage with Jesus Christ 
— the preparation of the Gospel of Peace with which 
his feet will be shod. The description means that God 
will perfectly restore us to our place in His home as 
He has also had us in His heart. He will declare that 
for Christ's sake we are justified. He will declare that 
our sins and our iniquities shall be remembered no 
more. He will confer upon us all the privileges of the 
sons of God. Always sons by nature, He will make 
us sons by redemption and holiness. We shall be 
received into the family and entitled to all the privileges 
as if we never had sinned against Him. 



138 



FAITH AND LIFE 



And what is the reason of this divine love and joy? 
The Pharisees could not understand it, and in the elder 
brother, who likewise felt no such rejoicing, they are 
pictured. He was angry at the favor shown to the re- 
turning outcast, and he remonstrated, dwelling on the 
sins of the prodigal — his wasted fortunes, his shameful 
life. He would not have received him ; or, at the most, 
would have given him a servant's place. But mark the 
father's answer : This my son was dead and is ahve 
again ; he was lost, and is found." The word express 
God's valuation of a soul. Not merely as the shepherd 
loved his lost sheep, nor as the woman valued her lost 
coin, but with the love of a father to a child — part of 
his own being — does God regard the sinner. To Him 
sin loses us, we are lost to Him, we are dead to Him. 
It is not merely that we are without Him, but that He 
is without us. That was the source of this father's joy 
in the welcome, and it is the source of God's. He 
knows the value of our souls. He knows how bottom- 
less is the pit of ruin into which we are almost ready 
to fall. He knows what life is. And He, it would 
seem, feels in a sense incomplete ; the family circle 
seems broken and wanting so long as we are away. 

So God's word is throbbing with this strange, un- 
utterable love, and by it I am justified in trying to tell 
you to-day how even the Most High longs for fellow- 
ship with you. Is it not strange ? Who would have 
dared to have said it but Christ? Can we enrich God? 



THE FATHER OF THE PRODIGAL 1 39 

Can we add to His felicity ? No, no ; and yet, yes ; 
since, having begotten us, He wants our love ; having 
made us for Himself, He longs for our presence. 
Oh, men may well stand amazed at Christ's revela- 
tion of the Father! No abstruse proof, no cold, 
majestic, philosophic conception. It is no empty 
name. He has made God the sun in our sky, the 
center of our souls. He has presented Him, personal, 
near, loving, patient, long-suffering. He was always 
such : but Christ has shown Him to us more plainly, 
and we have only to listen to Christ to know as never 
could have been known otherwise, the marvellous, un- 
limited, yea, passionate love of God ! Surely none of 
you can face this picture unmoved ! Surely no prod- 
igal here, no elder brother either, can gaze with heart 
unmelted ! He calls you, sinner ; He is waiting, the 
robe is ready : will you come — will you come ? Oh, 
with such a God, who would choose ungodliness ? 
With such a Father, who would choose exile from 
home ? This picture of Christ is the vivid portraiture 
of what Saint Paul meant when he was ready almost 
to lay himself at the sinner's feet and say, " We are 
ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech 
you by us ; we pray you in Christ's stead, be ye 
reconciled to God." Behold thy waiting Father, son 
of God ! Come, arise to-day ; come home ! 



VIII 

WORKING OUT SALVATION 

" Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling. For it is 
God which worketh in you both to will and to do of His good pleas- 
ure," — Philippians ii. 12, 13, 

I THINK that we are sometimes misled in our inter- 
pretation of this familiar text by attaching an incor- 
rect notion to its two opening words. To a hasty 
reader they imply that the safety of the soul can 
never be attained until the end of life. They may even 
seem to some to contradict the idea of salvation 
through faith, of immediate salvation on the ground 
of Christ's merits, which is the common teaching 
both of Paul and of the other apostles. They 
appear to throw back on our feeble shoulders the 
burden of our own redemption; and while they 
add the encouragement of God's cooperation with us, 
they yet seem to leave out of sight the complete 
salvation of the soul in Jesus Christ. Not a few, I 
imagine, have hastily cited these words as somewhat 
inconsistent with the doctrine of justification by faith. 

But the difficulty arises simply from a misunder- 
standing of the words " work out " ; and perhaps I 
can best express the wrong and the right view by an 

141 



142 



FAITH AND LIFE 



illustration. Let us suppose a slave offered his liberty 
on condition that he accornplish a certain amount of 
work. This will illustrate the mistaken view of our 
text. The slave is to work out his freedom. He may 
have encouragements. His master may even give 
him assistance. But his freedom is to be the reward 
of his own exertions. He will pay for it by his own 
toil. He will work it out in the sense of securing 
it as the wages of years of labor. If this were 
the sense in which we are to work out our salva- 
tion, it would be obvious that we have a hard task 
upon our hands, and that if ever we gain freedom we 
shall have good reason to comphment ourselves. 

But let us suppose the case of a slave emancipated 
by his master, given his full liberty at once ; and then 
directed, both for the sake of gratitude to his liberator 
and for the sake of his own self-development, to prove 
himself worthy of freedom. He, too, is now to work 
out his liberty : but not in the sense of procuring it, 
but in the sense of bringing out that which is in it, of 
using it well, of applying himself so as to enjoy his 
new privileges. He is to prove himself really free by 
manifesting self-control ; by securing employment and 
culture; by making his own the blessings and the 
prerogatives of freedom. Legally free, he is to work 
out a freeman's life, that he may manifest to others and 
himself enjoy both the rights and the duties which 
pertain to his new condition. 



WORKING OUT SALVATION 



This latter case will illustrate, I believe, the sense in 
which we are to work out our salvation. We may 
have it at once by faith in Christ Jesus. No one 
teaches this more plainly than Paul. Jesus secured 
our needed emancipation. We are free from con- 
demnation. We have passed from death unto life. 
We are no more the possession of Satan, but the 
accepted children of God. We are reconciled to 
God by the death of His Son, and our first need is to 
reahze, in all its wonderful meaning, the liberty where- 
with Christ has made us free. Having this posses- 
sion, we are to w^ork it out to its consummation. 
Having it legally, we are to work it out practically. 
Having it in the germ, we are to work out in our lives 
all its tendencies and consequences. 

And this is to be an individual matter. Each one is 
to work out his salvation for himself. Each one stands 
in an individual relation to Christ. Each one has indi- 
vidually believed and individually lives. And so, indi- 
vidually, we are to weave into the fabric of our own 
lives, as that grows with the years, the pattern which 
God has given us ; we are each to work it out, as the 
skilled workman may work out in wood or metal the 
idea which lies already fully formed within his mind. 
We are not to work for life, but, as it were, from life, as 
being those who already have it and who are resolved, 
by divine grace, to experience all that life implies. 
Just as God Himself works out in the history of crea- 



144 



FAITH AND LIFE 



tion His primeval thought, that thought which before 
the first creative word was uttered already embraced 
in itself every moment of history, and every atom of 
existence, so are we in the sphere of Christ Jesus, in 
whom potentially we have all things, to work Christ 
out with fear and trembling into the actual being, 
thought and character of our souls. 

With this understanding of the text, let us take, 
in turn, the chief elements of which our salvation 
consists and consider how they are to be worked out 
to their proper results. 

First, our salvation consists in the enlightenment of 
our minds by the saving truths of the Gospel, and 
therefore we are to work these truths into the actual 
fabric of our lives. A man becomes a Christian in part 
through the personal apprehension of certain practical 
truths. Those truths are old in that they have been 
known in the world from the beginning of Christian 
history ; they have been formulated into dogmas and 
creeds ; they have been expressed in the hymns and 
prayers of the Church of all ages ; they have become 
the famihar commonplaces of religion. Yet to each 
man they are new, in that, in becoming himself a 
Christian, he feels their force for the first time. To 
him it is as if they had just been revealed. They are 
practically a new discovery to him. They have power 
over his mind. They have a vital meaning for the 
first time. It has been said that genius is shown by 



WORKING OUT SALVATION 



making fresh what is familiar. Some of the greatest 
discoveries of science have consisted in the perception 
of what really lay in the commonest and best known 
facts. Truth is all about us : and the discoverer or 
the poet but catches a glance, through facts with which 
all are familiar, into the realm of ideas and forces 
w4iich have always existed in the facts, but which 
ordinary eyes have not seen. So the believer is a 
discoverer; and the new Hght which he now per- 
ceives for the first time is practically to him a reve- 
lation. 

What these saving truths are I need not rehearse. 
They are not many. They are all closely connected 
with each other. They are so related that when the 
mind has felt one, it must needs feel the others also. 
Foremost of them is the reality of God ; His personal 
presence ; His authority and His power ; His right- 
eousness and His holiness. Closely united with this 
there is the .'^ense of man's sin — of his alienation from 
God — and, therefore, his need of repentance and par- 
don. Now these two truths merge in the perception 
of what in reality Christ is, what He signifies in the his- 
tory of mankind : that God has manifested Himself in 
the person of Christ and that we may have redemp- 
tion through Christ's name. This is to human minds 
as the light of the sun. It carries with it a thrilling 
perception of what God is and what we are : that faith 

is our duty, love our hfe, and heaven our hope. God 
10 



146 



FAITH AND LIFE 



has shined into our hearts to bring the hght of the 
knowledge of His glory in the face of Jesus Christ. 

Certainly, although this perception of Christ is 
enough to alter a man's whole view of life, the truth is 
very imperfectly apprehended by him. Even so, how 
Httle he knows of God ! How little he understands of 
the cross itself! He must feel that this Sun which has 
risen upon him with healing in its wings is yet full of 
mystery. Of its past history and of its present nature 
he knows scarcely anything, while beyond the circle in 
which it moves and from which its beams fall upon him 
the vast unmeasured distances of space assure him that 
secrets of which he knows nothing but the fact of 
their existence await further illumination. Only he 
knows that he has enough light to walk and work and 
live by. He must feel as I suppose one would feel 
who has discovered some mechanical principle which 
solves for him a knotty problem by which he has 
been vexed, but the further application and the inner- 
most meanings of which are as yet unsolved. 

Nevertheless, he is enlightened, and now, yield- 
ing with joy to the discovery he has made, he is im- 
pelled to work out to all its legitimate consequences 
the saving truth of the Gospel. It will never do 
to stop. Truth is realized only when it is embodied 
and worked out in some material. As a theory 
it is but a cloud driven by the winds. The cloud 
must descend and enter into the structure of the 



WORKING OUT SALVATION 



world, and the truth must enter into living expression. 
And the natural material which such truths as these 
of the Gospel seek is the human soul. In its life truth 
is to become, as it were, incarnate. Take any 
political theory as an illustration. You know that 
it is reaHzed only by being worked out in the fortunes 
of a people. Only so can its real worth appear. Only 
so can the truth and the error in it be separated. 
Only so can its mission be fulfilled. Otherwise it will 
evaporate and disappear. Or take any scientific truth. 
You know that it is discovered as a fact in actual 
operation. The object of science is to ascertain what 
is working in the natural world, and this is but another 
way of ascertaining how the Creator is working out 
the principles which He impressed upon the world. 

I was deeply impressed by an anecdote once re- 
lated by Dr. Archibald Alexander Hodge, of that dis- 
tinguished scientist, Professor Joseph Henry. As a 
young man Dr. Hodge was Professor Henry's assistant 
in making his experiments. He says : " I can well re- 
member the wonderful care with which he arranged all 
his principal experiments. Then often, when the testing 
moment came, that holy as well as great philosopher 
would raise his hand in adoring reverence and call 
upon me to uncover my head and worship in silence. 
' Because,' he said, ' God is here : I am about to ask 
God a question.' " Surely, that was the right spirit 
of scientific inquiry — none the less exact for being 



148 



FAITH AND LIFE 



religious — and it went upon the idea that God is 
working out in nature His own thought and plan. 
So, I say, truth is to be embodied — worked out into 
the material of our lives : and the Christian, being 
once enlightened, is to work out his salvation with 
fear and trembhng. 

I could take each of the revealed truths of the Gos- 
pel and show, in part at least, how it is to be thus 
wrought out. Take, for example, the truth of the Incar- 
nation. It is not to be regarded as a mere mystery 
without moral bearing upon our lives. It was the cul- 
mination in Scripture history of the truth which had 
been formerly taught to Enoch when he walked 
with God, and afterward to Israel by tabernacle and 
temple in which Jehovah dwelt. It reveals the possi- 
bility, I mean, of the indwelling of God in and among 
men. Worked out by the behever, it results in a 
sense of divine nearness and likeness which make the 
whole world radiant with divine presence. It results 
in the sense of God in us — Christ in you, the hope of 
glory, our bodies the temples of God by the Spirit: 
and thus, in the growing consciousness of union and 
communion on earth with the Father and the Son. 
I, too, am a son of God, and this carries with it a view 
of privilege and duty, of inheritance and possession, of 
expanding life and eternal glory before which the mind 
fails as the eye before the sunbeams, and can but wait 
for time to unfold the unspeakable reality. 



WORKING OUT SALVATION 



149 



This must suffice as an example. You may take 
each truth of the Gospel and similarly work out its 
logic in your life. It will not be bare logic, but living 
experience, growing knowledge. God means His word 
thus to be wrought into His new creation ; therefore, 
perhaps, it was that He revealed Himself not as an 
abstract truth, but as a life, the Word made flesh — 
that as out of nature the student gathers part of God's 
thought, so out of Christ he might gather more. Thus 
as the student reapplies what he has discovered, so are 
we to reapply in our lives what we discern from 
Christ's. God does not wish His truth to return to Him 
as it came forth, any more than the farmer when he 
sows his seed wishes to pick up the seed again as he 
cast it down. What he looks for is the harvest — the 
product of the seed which he has sown as it has been 
worked through the processes of nature. So God de- 
sires His word to return to Him not in propositions and 
theories, but in living souls — informed, pervaded, illu- 
minated, recreated, by the truth they have received. 
And if we have been enlightened by these saving truths 
of the Gospel, this is in order that the fabric of the new 
creation may arise in us made according to the pattern 
shown in the mount. We are now and henceforth to 
work out this salvation in our thoughts and feelings and 
actions, even to the very last result. Thus shall we 
approach unto the perfect man — the measure of the 
stature of the fulness of Christ. 



FAITH AND LIFE 



But let us take another view of our salvation. It 
consists not only in the enlightenment of the mind 
by saving truth, but in the fact which is thereby 
revealed of sin actually forgiven, of justification for 
Christ's sake before the Father, of acceptance in the 
Beloved : and this reconciliation with God we are 
to work out into its ultimate aim of perfect holiness. 

No candid student of Scripture can doubt that it 
teaches the doctrine that the sinner is freely justified 
and acquitted by God from all his guilt as soon as he 
believes in the Lord Jesus. God does not put us on 
probation when we come to His Son. He treats us 
as the father of the prodigal did his penitent boy. He 
acknowledges us as His sons, and forthwith reinstates 
us in our place in His house. Therefore Christ said 
to the penitent woman and to the believing paralytic, 
" Thy sins are forgiven thee." Therefore He cried to 
all His hearers, He that heareth my word, and be- 
lieveth on Him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and 
shall not come into condemnation ; but is passed from 
death unto life." Therefore Paul wrote in the spirit 
of Christ : There is therefore now no condemnation 
to them which are in Christ Jesus," and quoted to the 
same effect the old prophet's words, Whosoever shall 
call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved." We 
believe, therefore, in immediate justification. God 
accepts the penitent sinner as righteous for Christ's 
sake. He imputes to him the righteousness of Christ. 



PVO/^ KING OUT SAL VA TION 1 5 I 

He declares him legally guiltless. God is reconciled 
to the sinner and the sinner is reconciled to God. 
The believer is a free man. Before God's law he is an 
innocent man. His sins and his iniquities are remem- 
bered no more. He is reconciled in Christ to God. 
At the foot of the cross the burden rolls off 

Now, perhaps, this is precisely what most of you un- 
derstand by salvation. It is salvation; but in one very 
important sense it is incomplete : and hence the diffi- 
culty which men so often find in it. Not a few people 
actually regard this doctrine as injurious. They say, for 
example, that it teaches men so to rely on the work of 
another as to do no work themselves ; that it affords 
also an easy excuse by which men can imagine them- 
selves saved while they continue living in sin. It is 
said, further, that this doctrine is a mere legal fiction, 
such as we cannot suppose God to act upon, however 
men may do so. He must treat men as they are: and 
to accept as righteous for the sake of another those 
whom He knows to be unrighteous would be to bring 
His government into merited contempt. Hence the 
sheltering robe of Christ's merits is sought to be 
dragged from our shoulders, much as the elder brother 
would have torn from the prodigal the "best robe" 
which his father had put upon him : and we should all 
be left in our shame and sinfulness to stand the poor 
chance we should have at the hand of eternal right- 
eousness. 



152 



FAITH AND LIFE 



It will help to remove such objections from your 
minds and may lead you to give no ground for such 
objections to others, if you will mark the bearing of 
our text on this view of our salvation. There is no 
doubt, as I have said, that the Bible teaches immediate 
justification for Christ's sake. But it is important to 
add that the Bible insists with equal force that the 
salvation which is made legally ours we are to work 
out ; the liberty which has been declared to be ours 
we are to exercise both as to its privileges and its 
duties ; the acquittal which we have received we are 
to make a real and personal deliverance from the 
actual bondage of sin. It is only on the supposition 
that the formal will thus become the real that it is 
permitted. It is only on the supposition aijd cer- 
tainity of our becoming like Christ that we are 
allowed to know that in Christ we are saved. 

In this, as in the former point, an illustration may 
make clear the force of our text. In Drummond's 
v/ell-known book on Natural Law in the Spiritual 
World, one of the most interesting chapters is that 
upon " Environment." This is the modern word for 
circumstances. It means the sum total of the out- 
ward conditions in which any object lives. The 
influence of an animal's environment upon it is now 
recognized as one of the great complex forces in its 
development. If it adjust itself to its environment it 
will live. Harmony with environment is the condi- 



WORKING OUT SALVATION 



153 



tion of life, and the higher the environment, the higher 
the life. If it be removed to another environment, it 
will often, if it have sufficient vitahty, come to adjust 
itself thereto so as quite to change its habits. This 
is a well-known fact in nature and, as Drummond 
points out, we find the same fact in moral and spirit- 
ual matters. A man is made by his company. If 
he would improve, he must put himself in a better 
environment. Yea, his effort should be to put him- 
self into the best of all environments, of which God 
Himself is the chief factor, that by adjusting him- 
self thereto he may find in harmony with God the 
perfect Hfe. 

I think that the ingenious author might have car- 
ried his argument a step further. His book has been 
criticized because it contains no reference to atone- 
ment, and here, if anywhere, this might have been 
introduced. For when God reinstates us into His 
favor in Christ Jesus and accepts us as righteous for 
Christ's sake, this is but placing us in the most favor- 
able circumstances for the growth of spiritual char- 
acter. We are in Christ as the tender plant, which, 
sheltered in the conservatory from the winter's storm, 
produces even tropical fruit. So in Christ, with guilt 
removed, w^ith favor shown, with hope beating high, 
we are so situated that, in spite of contending tempta- 
tion, we may work out in our lives the actual image of 
the Saviour. We do not have to work against only 



154 



FAITH AND LIFE 



hostile influences. We are only in a state of imperfect 
adjustment. Already we have the faith, the love, the 
desire, and in Christ we become fashioned, as other- 
wise we could not do, into the likeness of our Lord. 
If you wish to reform and save a child whom you 
have discovered in a home of squalor and vice, you 
will not have much prospect of success if you shall 
merely give it good advice and offer to pay its 
schooHng and furnish it with clothes, while leaving it 
in its squaHd, vicious surroundings. No ; if you 
wished to save such a child, you would feel that these 
would undo all your work. You would remove 
it beyond their influence. Perhaps you would take 
it to your own home. There you would have reason- 
able hope of its reformation. There it would be able 
to work out your benevolent intentions. The purity 
and cleanliness and religion of your home would 
gradually become natural to it. The old nature 
would be put off and a new nature put on, congruous 
to the new circumstances amid which you have placed 
the child. 

Thus, as I conceive it, God does with the be- 
liever. He puts him, first of all, in such a new rela- 
tion to Himself, that in it spiritual growth is possible. 
We could not be made holy without first being 
forgiven. We could not work out our salvation 
without having first received it as a free gift. But 
having so received it, we are to work it out. Like 



WORKING OUT SALVATION 



emancipated slaves we are to prove ourselves worthy 
of liberty. Being declared freemen, we are to shake 
off our fetters. There is plenty of need of effort and 
toil. It is real work. God does not exempt us from 
such work. Only it is work with a reasonable pros- 
pect of success : and that is not true of the work of 
those who labor for their salvation with the law against 
them. We are to work our salvation out. We are 
to enter into a personal experience, ever more and 
more complete, of that union with God, that liberty 
from sin, that deliverance from evil, which already we 
have the moment we believe in Jesus, though we have 
not realized in experience its infinite blessings. 

Such, then, I apprehend to be the meaning of this 
command. There are other points of view from which 
we might regard it, but these two that I have pre- 
sented to you must suffice. Certainly they are 
sufficient to give ardor and hope to every earnest 
believer. The apostle does indeed say, Work with 
fear and trembling." But no doubt he so spoke 
because he would have us realize the momentous 
nature of our task. We may well be filled with awe 
as we consider the privileges we enjoy, the trust com- 
mitted to us, the magnificent goal which is held before 
us. And by fear and trembling I understand not 
slavish terror, not fear which springs from doubt, but 
the solemnity and carefulness which should spring 
from the sense of our divine sonship and our peerless 



156 



FAITH AND LIFE 



portion in Christ, which are to be worked out in this 
world and in the flesh. And that we may not faint, 
he does not fail to add also the reminder, " It is God 
which worketh in you both the willing and the doing 
according to His good pleasure." This phrase con- 
firms our view of the text. We are to work as those 
in whom God already works and dwells ; as those, 
therefore, whom He has already accepted, and whose 
purpose is to carry out His purpose ; whose work is 
done because He is working; and who, therefore, 
again have the utmost encouragement to persevere. 

Let us obey, therefore, my hearers, this most prac- 
tical command. Consider the capital you have to 
start with, and then work out its utmost capacity, that 
the return may be larger, and a larger reinvestment 
follow. Already you are Christ's, I assume. Yours is 
the Sacrifice and the Advocate ; yours is the citizen- 
ship on high ; yours is the Holy Spirit ; yours are the 
truth and the promises. Therefore your work is plain. 
Enjoy your Hberty. Put sin under your feet. Apply 
the truth to every exigency of life. Follow in the foot- 
steps of the Master. Solemnly, carefully, yet joyfully 
and hopefully, work out into life and character, into 
opinion and emotion and conduct, in short, into your 
whole being, the salvation which you have from Christ 
by faith ; and you need not fear. He who worketh in 
you will enable you to succeed. 

And if there be any poor soul here who is trying to 



WORKING OUT SALVATION 



work out salvation for himself in the other sense, with 
no acceptance of a Saviour now, — working it out 
doubtfully, anxiously, and vainly, seeing how poor and 
faulty the result is, — let me point out to that soul its 
great error. Your anxiety, your toil, your readiness to 
work, my brother, are all right; but you are working 
in the wrong way and you never will succeed. You 
need to stop working for a while, to look at your 
worthless products, and then to Him for salvation — to 
the Lord, our Righteousness. He only can save you. 
He will put at once the robe on your shoulders and 
strength within your heart. He will give you what 
you cannot make for yourself, and then He will enable 
you to work as you never worked before ; to work out 
in your life by His spirit the glorious salvation which 
He has purchased by His blood. Work not to Christ, 
but for Christ and with Christ, and you will have 
solved the problem — the working out of your own 
salvation. 



i 



IX 



UNFINISHED BUILDINGS 

" For which of you, intending to build a tower, sitteth not down 
first, and counteth the cost, whether he have sufficient to finish it? Lest 
haply, after he hath laid the foundation, and is not able to finish it, all 
that behold it begin to mock him, saying. This man began to build, 

and was not able to finish So likewise, whosoever he be of 

you that forsaketh not all that he hath, he cannot be my disciple."— 
Luke xiv., 28-30, 33. 

We naturally dislike failures. We hate to fail 
ourselves. Some men would rather do wrong than 
fail ; so lofty is our pride and so sensitive are we 
to the criticism of the world. We look with some 
derision and contempt on the failures of others. Un- 
finished labors and disappointed ambitions are often 
thought fit subjects for scorn. Our Lord was quite 
true to life when He described the mockery which 
failures meet with. He Himself was to feel the scorn- 
ful dart. Hanging on the cross, an apparent failure in 
the eyes of the exulting priests, He was to hear the 
cry : " He saved others ; himself he cannot save. If 
he be the King of Israel, let him now come down from 
the cross." 

More or less poignantly, we all feel the sting of such 
remarks : and yet are only too apt to make them. It 

159 



i6o 



FAITH AND LIFE 



is true that often men are not to be blamed for their 
failures. Sometimes these cannot be helped. Some- 
times, too, they are our best friends, though they meet 
us with grim visages and though their embrace be 
rough. But wherever we see presumptuous ambition 
falHng from the too dizzy height to which it has 
climbed ; or reckless extravagance ending in rapid 
bankruptcy; or any attempt, especially if we do not 
sympathize with it, evaporating into smoke ; we quickly 
put upon it the stigma of our derision and say, not 
always kindly and yet not without reason. This man 
began to build and was not able to finish. 

Against all such failures in reHgion and in Christian 
life our watchful Lord has warned us. His warning 
is needed: for it is not hard to begin a good work; 
and many start to run who never reach the goal. 
Does not the adage say that "The way to hell is 
paved with good intentions " ? A little child may 
begin to dig away a mountain with a trowel or 
to empty the ocean with a cup ; but he overrates his 
capacity and underrates the task. Equally thought- 
less are those who set out on the moral and spiritual 
enterprises of life without preparation and an intelligent 
understanding of the work before them. 

Not a few begin the religious life under such mis- 
takes, and, of course, they fail. A little gush of 
enthusiasm thrills them as they listen to a vivid pre- 
sentation of the truth ; and on the spur of it they 



UNFINISHED BUILDINGS l6l 

enlist for a campaign, the dangers and duties of which 
they do not begin to comprehend. A wave of reh- 
gious feehng spreads through the community, and 
men mistake the contagion of excitement for the vital 
force of conviction and real conversion. Conscience 
stings them for some particular offence, and in remorse 
they dedicate themselves to a service which they do 
not truly love. Misfortune falls upon them ; bereave- 
ment enters their homes; death with stealthy tread 
draws near ; and in sheer alarm they try to hide them- 
selves under a profession which deceives no one except 
perhaps themselves. Cases like this frequently occur, 
and it is no wonder that they do not issue in per- 
manent good results. Enthusiasm dies ; feeling ebbs ; 
conscience sleeps again; fortune smiles once more; 
sorrow's edge is dulled : and the episode passes, leaving 
the man worse than it found him. 

I do not forget, that there are others guilty of 
exactly the opposite fault, in that they wait too long 
and let the golden opportunities escape them which 
God meant them to improve. But other texts are 
meant for them. At present we deal with bad begin- 
ners. Perhaps there are more of these. Christ wants 
us to begin and to finish : and if we begin aright, 
we shall be sure to finish. Permanent success, com- 
pleted lives, genuine, real disciples were what He 
sought to make : and knowing how easy it is for men 
to make mistakes and how melancholy a sight such 
11 



FAITH AND LIFE 



an unfinished building is, He warned us of our peril 
and showed us the secret of success. 

Let me give you some examples of such unfinished 
buildings, which were meant to be, but are not, 
structures of Christian character ; and point out the 
common causes of their failure. 

Some men begin to build, but are not able to 
finish, because they do not lay a strong enough foun- 
dation. The foundation on which a man's personal 
religion rests is his faith. That is the root-principle 
out of which his Christian life expands and unfolds. 
That is the fundamental fact on which his experience 
of rehgious power depends. An irrehgious man is 
one who does not trust. He may intellectually be- 
lieve, but he does not personally confide in God. 
The change which makes him a Christian, if he ever 
becomes such, consists essentially in his learning to 
trust. He sees now the reasonableness of such 
trust : inasmuch as reason cannot show him salvation 
and God has given sufficient evidence for his trust to 
rest upon. He becomes so far a child again. He takes 
God at His word and humbly rests on it. Not that he 
as yet believes all that he ought to beheve or will be- 
lieve. Not that he is at once exempt from doubts and 
still less from sins. But he has found faith. Having 
found that, with it comes the religious view of life, 
and he becomes so far forth a religious man. 

Yet this is only the foundation. On it is the struct- 



UNFINISHED BUILDINGS 



163 



ure of Christian knowledge and character to be raised. 
Out of it are the Christian virtues to grow : and if the 
faith be not genuine and strong, it may give way when 
much has been built upon it, and the whole edifice 
crumble to ruin. Have you ever considered how we 
build each day on the preceding day's assumptions, 
and go on building until the whole fabric of our habits 
and relations rests thereon ? A man's first convictions 
are of awful importance to him. For when he has 
made them, he has thenceforth to assume them as 
proved. He has to build on them. He takes his 
position in the world on the strength of them. He 
acquires habits based upon them. He forms ties in 
which these convictions are assumed. Thus the 
structure rises on the foundation of his original behef 
What a frightful catastrophe is that which has 
sometimes taken place when, after years of such 
building, the underlying faith gives way ! Men have 
been driven almost mad by the calamity. Some 
have been dishonest and have hidden the change of 
faith because of their unwiUingness to face the conse- 
quences. The catastrophe is enough to frighten any 
one — to feel the very rock on which our whole lives 
rest sHding from underneath us ; to see our funda- 
mental axioms melting into fog, and to find ourselves 
reduced to the miserable alternative of either beginning 
life all over again on another basis or else patching up 
the old foundation by some more or less dishonest 



164 



FAITH AND LIFE 



means. It is of primary importance, therefore, that 
we take every possible means of acquiring a founda- 
tion faith which will be strong and true : such a faith 
as will stand the strain which will be put upon it, 
and successfully uphold throughout life whatever may 
be built over it. 

What are the qualifications of such a faith? 

It must not be a blind faith. A bhnd faith is one 
which exists without intelHgent reasons ; which does 
not know why it believes ; which can give no account 
of itself to others. Many start with such a faith, and it 
is no wonder that by and by the crash comes. They 
believe merely because they have been taught to, 
without seriously thinking for themselves. They 
accept their faith on authority without ever examining 
the right of their authority to teach. They do hot 
realize that their faith must stand the strain of later 
thought and of strange temptations. They don the 
uniform of belief without consideration of the fight 
which awaits a soldier's life. There are such things as 
both blind unbelief and bhnd faith: and the blunder of 
each is to be condemned. " Prove all things," says an 
apostle ; " hold fast that which is good." Another 
apostle says, " Be ready always to give an answer to 
every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that 
is in you." He does not mean that we should be able 
to answer all objections and solve all difficulties, for, 
as Newman once wrote, "ten thousand difficulties do 



UNFINISHED BUILDINGS 



165 



not make one doubt." But he does mean that we 
should believe because we feel faith to be an intelligent 
and reasonable thing, and therefore should hold it not 
as if we were tied to it with a rope by another's hand, 
but as grasping it deliberately with our own hands. 

Then it must be a faith not in man but in God. 
We do not urge men to believe in us, or in the 
Church, or even in the apostles, but in God as re- 
vealed in His Son Jesus Christ. Paul said to some 
who were putting him above his Master, Who then 
is Paul, and who is Apollos, but ministers by whom ye 
believed ?" To have for your foundation faith in any- 
thing human is to build on sand. For no man can be 
to a soul its God or its spiritual father. No belief 
in any man or church will of itself reconcile your sinful 
heart to the Holy One. Your trust must be in God 
Himself It must be a resting upon His being and a 
dependence on His word. It must be the establish- 
ing in you of filial confidence in the divine Father, 
• and this, through His only Son, the divine Saviour. 
Many a time has our faith in man received a shock ; 
and some poor souls, who have been resting on hu- 
man rather than on divine supports, have lost in the 
wreck not only their faith in men but their faith in 
God also. They were illogical, but they suffered loss, 
nevertheless ; and the melancholy view of their lives 
warns us that only faith in God is a strong enough 
foundation for the structure that is to be built upon it. 



FAITH AND LIFE 



Still further, your faith must be eager to know better 
Him in whom you have beheved. Some men seem 
to think that when faith has once been exercised, its 
mission is done, and that henceforth they may be busy 
about all other kinds of knowledge and work except 
the knowledge of God and His work, and yet their 
faith retain its power. Is it any wonder if after a while 
their minds become cultivated in every respect except 
in spiritual things, and that little by little a great 
chasm is opened between their real life and the faith 
which they once held ? Suppose you make a friend 
and *' swear to him eternal friendship," and then go 
off and live by yourself, keep up no communication 
with him, do not share with him his thoughts nor let 
him share yours, become absorbed in things from 
which he is excluded : how long, do you suppose, 
will your friendship last? Go back to him and try 
to assume again the old relations, and you will find 
that he and you are separated by a want of sympathy 
which no formal association can recreate. So must 
your faith in God be of a kind which seeks to know 
Him better and better. It must expand with your 
growing life. It must be fitted into the changing 
circumstances of your fortunes. It must be a divine 
companionship in the actual warfare of this world. It 
must twine itself about God's heart as it feels His 
arms supporting your soul. So will it be living, real, 
practical, potent ; and though you grow to be never 



UNFINISHED BUILDINGS 



167 



SO wise, never so rich, never so busy, it will abide with 
you, and be the ever-sufficient foundation on which 
your hfe's building rests. 

Then you will be able to build and to finish. Oh, 
some believers are afraid of doubt and infidelity ! 
People speak of the decline of faith. Now and then 
we do see men who began to build but were not able 
to finish because their faith had failed them. But it 
need not have failed; and if it be as I have said it ought 
to be, we need not fear for others or for ourselves. 
A faith that is intelligent ; that rests on God, not on 
man ; and that ever seeks, amid the other avocations 
of life, to know God and to obey His truth better and 
better ; will support the mightiest structure which the 
longest life and the most active brain and the busiest 
hand can build upon it. 

But, again, some men begin to build but are not 
able to finish because they are unreasonably ambitious, 
attempt too much, and then give up in despair. The 
great cathedral at Cologne was begun as far back as 
the thirteenth century, and century after century it re- 
mained unfinished. It was too ambitious a structure 
for the age and place to complete. Not until about 
thirty years ago was it finished by an heroic effort of 
the Prussian king, and then only by a vast expenditure 
of money and of modern skill. There are many who 
try to build Gothic cathedrals when they ought to be 
content with chapels or dwelling-houses. Entering 



i68 



FAITH AND LIFE 



on the Christian life, they have unreasonable ideas. 
They lay out more work than any mortal can accom- 
plish, and expect results which even the divine prom- 
ises do not warrant. Of course, their towers are never 
more than begun, Hke that of Babel ; and with a disap- 
pointment as unreasonable as were their plans, they 
give up the task altogether and tell us, perhaps, that 
they have tried religion and have found it a failure. 
. Here are some illustrations of what I mean by these 
too ambitious plans. 

One begins with the idea that he will understand 
everything. He is a philosopher, and he means to 
solve the problems of theology and of Providence 
that have vexed the ages. In most cases he is 
soon more interested in curious questions than he 
is in practical piety, and examines the stones so 
long that he forgets to build with them. His rehgion 
becomes a mental speculation. He becomes eccen- 
tric in his views, and after a while he breaks away from 
the faith and dedicates himself to his speculations. 

Another begins with the idea that he will transform 
the world in a hfetime. He is sure that he can do 
what the apostles failed to do. He has some pet 
scheme by which humanity is to be immediately 
brought to its right condition. With great enthu- 
siasm he sets forth — with more zeal than knowledge ; 
and when he has broken his spear against the gigantic 
evils of the day, and has found himself unable to 



UNFINISHED BUILDINGS 



169 



conquer them, he rashly concludes that nothing can 
be done, and lays down his arms. 

And still a third carries the same unreasonable ideas 
into his personal life. There have been those, as you 
know, and there still are those, who think to destroy 
the earthly life at once, and enter into perfection by 
casting off the human ties and sympathies which God 
had made for us, and in ascetic solitude attain perpetual 
communion with divinity. 

There are those, too, who begin the Christian life 
with no conception of the patient work of sanctification 
which Hes before them, and think to enjoy at once the 
ideal pleasures of a holy and sinless life. They are 
like the seed which Jesus described, which fell among 
thorns ; and they are choked by the cares and riches, 
the temptations and the sorrows of life, and bring no 
fruit to perfection. 

All these classes begin to build, but are not able to 
finish, because they plan unreasonably ambitious struc- 
tures. We do not need to lay out such grand schemes. 
We shall only fail if we do. We were not meant to 
live in palaces but in ordinary dwelling-houses. It is 
not for us to attempt what even apostles and prophets 
thought beyond them. 

For be it well understood that the Christian life does 
not offer us the explanation of all mysteries. It is 
not a philosophy, but a practical theory of life. It does 
not explain the principles of God, nor make us wise 



FAITH AND LIFE 



like the Most High. We know but in part, and 
while sufficient light is given for the daily walk, the 
heights and depths are still veiled. We must be 
modest. It is not necessary to understand all things 
in order to get real happiness and usefulness out 
of life. Let us not try to build museums to exhibit 
curious discoveries in ; nor palaces in which to display 
the achievements of our mental powers ; but simple 
dwellings, in which we may live with God in faith 
and communion, and which will be quite sufficient for 
the little while we have to stay in them. 

And be it well understood, also, that God does not 
call us to transform the world. He is reconciling the 
world unto Himself ; and only subordinate parts are 
committed to us. Even the Lord Jesus was content 
to hmit His work to the special lot assigned Him ; and 
though there was much, doubtless, that He would 
have liked to do but could not. He did so well what 
He was given to do that He could say at the end, " It 
is finished." Only do with thy might what thy hands 
find to do, and leave the rest with God. 

Then do not forget that the building up of personal 
character can likewise advance only slowly in this 
world. It is a life-long matter. Disappointments and 
trials and temptations are parts of the needed discipline. 
Concentrate, therefore, on what is practical. Start out 
to do your best for Christ and men, to know all that 
you can know, to fight the good fight till death ; but 



UNFINISHED BUILDINGS 



171 



remember that at the most we can accomplish little. 
Still that httle is worth doing and doing well. It is 
your heaven-given mission. Do it with your might. 
It will give point and issue to your Christianity, and 
at the end you will at least have finished something, 
and will not awaken derision and shame by an 
ambitious failure. 

And now, still again, some begin to build but are 
not able to finish, because they try to do too many 
other things at the same time. They are hke workmen 
who take too many jobs, and the particular trouble is 
that they often become more interested in the doing 
of other work than in the building up of Christian hfe 
and usefulness. 

I suspect that this is one of the commonest reasons 
why so many in our day begin to build and are not 
able to finish. The temptations to forget the Lord's 
work are innumerable. The young man, for exam- 
ple, who has started well, becomes fascinated by 
the claims of business, desiring, as he does, to push 
it to success and fortune ; or he becomes absorbed in 
the study and the practice of his profession. When 
he gets a home of his own, he becomes chiefly inter- 
ested in securing the comfort of his family, and in 
maintaining his place in the hardly contested race of 
life. Never, perhaps, did so many voices, sweet and 
deceptive as the siren's, call us in different ways. 
Culture calls us to her feet and wealth dazzles us 



172 



FAITH AND LIFE 



with its promises ; politics offers an easy path to fame ; 
and science tells of mysteries to be learned, more 
wonderful than alchemists ever dreamed of. So we 
neglect the building up of faith and of Christian 
character. We dwindle into reHgious indifference and 
external morality. We care for everything except 
that which is most important, and to which we once 
pledged our names. Is it any wonder if we present 
to God's eye an unfinished task, and never enjoy the 
comfort of a completed spiritual home ? 

How shall we escape this peril ? Well may we ask 
the question. I reply. Only by close and constant 
watchfulness. The prophet Haggai lived after the 
return of Israel from Babylon, and reproved them for 
just this fault, that they built their own houses but let 
the Lord's house lie waste. He assured them that real 
prosperity would come to them only when they cared 
for Jehovah's temple even at the cost of neglecting 
other things. I bring a similar message to you. You 
must not let the work of life cause you to forget the 
duty of prayer and the service of Christ's kingdom. It 
is idle to say that you have not time. You have time. 
Besides, whose is your time ? What are you but 
workmen in the employ of God ? Is not your time 
His ? Then do His work. Do not scatter your 
energies. Put that first which belongs in the first 
place. Lay the emphasis of life aright. Seek first the 
kingdom of God. Build the temple, the temple 



! 

I 



UNFINISHED BUILDINGS 



of Christian character, the temple of divine service. 
Give heed to these things, and do not prepare for your 
souls in your dying hour the horrible thought that you 
have been absorbed in the least important matter to 
the neglect of that for which you were chiefly sent 
into the world. When the Master comes to examine 
thy day's labor, and asks thee what hast thou built, it 
will not do to say, " See, Lord, I have been working 
on yonder house of my own, and have not had time to 
do much at thine." Surely He will say, Did I not 
employ thee for 7ny work ? Go thy way. As thou 
hast served thyself and not me, look to thyself for thy 
reward." 

And, finally, some men begin to build, but are 
not able to finish, because they do not count the cost 
beforehand. This was the reason of failure which 
our Lord had especially in mind. How fair He was 
with those disciples who knew so little of what was 
involved in the great undertaking ! Some were ready 
to follow Jesus under the impulse of mere patriotism ; 
others from the excitement of the popular enthusiasm 
which was so soon to die away ; others, perhaps, even 
from selfish and sordid motives. The Lord desired to 
save them from such unhappy mistakes. He insisted, 
therefore, upon their knowing what the cost of disciple- 
ship would be, and He put the case so strongly that it 
almost staggers us as we read His words. " If any 
man come to me and hate not his father and mother. 



174 



FAITH AND LIFE 



and wife and children, yea, and his own life also, he 
cannot be my disciple." 

Of course, He meant " hate " only in a compar- 
ative sense. He told us to honor father and 
mother, to love wife and children, and our neighbor 
as ourselves. So He could not have meant us to 
hate them. But he did mean that our acceptance 
of Him as Master should be so complete and absolute 
that nothing will be allowed to stand in its way. 
Everything that becomes in any way inconsistent with 
it is to be surrendered. Then He added, And who- 
soever doth not bear his cross, and come after Me, 
cannot be My disciple." He meant us to realize that 
the Christian life is one of self-denial ; that we must not 
enter it expecting only reward but must expect also 
trial, and that we must enter as bearers of the cross. 
It is true that the cross becomes sweet when we 
bear it willingly; that His yoke is easy and His burden 
light. But He did not tell them that, because He 
wanted them to begin to build in the resolute spirit of 
self-sacrifice. Finally He added, "Whosoever he be 
of you that forsaketh not all that he hath, he cannot 
be My disciple " — forsaketh all, that is, in the sense of 
withdrawing from it our supreme allegiance ; putting 
it with ourselves at the service of the Lord; being 
willing to spend all we have and are in the work to 
which God calls us. Thus Jesus taught us to count 
the cost. " Which of you," He says, " intending to 



UNFINISHED BUIIDINGS 



build a tower, sitteth not down first, and counteth the 
cost, whether he have sufficient to finish it ?" 

I make my appeal to you, therefore, for an intelli- 
gent, sincere, hearty, and real acceptance of Jesus 
Christ. It would be easy for me to dilate upon the 
reasons why you should begin the building. If you do 
not feel them, you must be blind indeed. But I know 
you do feel them, for conscience impresses them upon 
you. But probably not a few are held back from be- 
ginning, just because of the fear that they may not 
be able to finish. They do not want to be failures. 
They do not want to be inconsistent. They are 
afraid to undertake so great a task as it seems to 
them. By all that I have said do I respect their de- 
sire to be honest and consistent. Unfinished build- 
ings — monuments of folly ! Certainly these no one 
wants. 

But I press upon you the fact that if you set to work 
in the right way, there is not the least likelihood of 
failure. Lay the foundation by a simple, honest trust 
in Jesus as your Saviour. Be content to do the work 
which He assigns you. Do not let yourselves be 
carried away to the neglect of your religious duties. 
Be honest, be sincere, give yourselves wholly to Him, 
and then you need not fear. You may be poor and 
weak, but He will make up for all that. You may 
feel yourselves wholly inadequate, and you are so; 
but He will give you the grace you need day by 



176 



FAITH AND LIFE 



day. This is the testimony of all who have builded 
under Him, while those who will not begin simply 
because they are afraid they will not finish, will have 
no work at all to show Him when He comes to make 
inquiry of their souls. 

Oh, the joy of him who begins in the faith and 
love of the Saviour, who daily builds a little, who, 
amid the other work of life, does not forget his soul 
and his Maker, who tries to extend Christ's king- 
dom, and thus in life and Avork builds up God's 
house ! Even if his life be short, even if he have only 
a humble place assigned him, he will be able to 
greet his Lord, when the day is done, with the happy 
words : "I have finished the work which thou gavest 
me to do." 



X 



STRENGTH AND BEAUTY 
"Strength and beauty are in His sanctuary." — Psalms xcvi. 6. 

I SUPPOSE that the Hebrew writer of these words 
was looking at or thinking of the temple, and that, 
as he admired its architectural strength and beauty, 
his thought was raised to adoration of Him whose 
dwelling-place the temple was. It is doubtful whether 
this Psalm was composed before or after the Babylo- 
nian exile — whether, therefore, the eye of the writer 
fell on the temple of Solomon or on that which was 
erected by the Jews who returned from Chaldea. But 
for our purpose this matters little. In either case the 
sanctuary of God filled him with admiration. 

If, however, it was Solomon's temple of which he 
spoke, we can imagine some of the features which he 
must have had in mind. The immense blocks of 
stone of which the foundation was composed, and the 
great Lebanon cedars which were brought by Hiram, 
king of Tyre, explain the reference to the strength 
of the building. Though not large, it was a soHd, 
massive structure, built to last through ages, while the 
foundations themselves rested on imperishable rock. 
And, then, the resources of art were exhausted to 

12 177 



1/8 



FAITH AND LIFE 



make it beautiful as well as strong. The interior was 
overlaid with pure gold, on which were carved figures 
of cherubim and palm trees and flowers. All the 
utensils of worship were of the same costly metal 
and elaborately ornamented ; while precious stones 
gleamed amid the gold and Tyrian tapestries hung 
on every side. The wealthiest of kings lavished his 
riches ; the most skilled artificers taxed their art; the 
adventurous mariners laid tribute upon distant lands to 
make beautiful the temple of Jehovah. It thus seemed 
to combine the two elements of architectural perfec- 
tion, — strength and beauty. The Hebrews beheld in 
it the fittest habitation for God which human hands 
could provide ; and in its perfection as a building they 
saw represented the perfection which the human soul 
would enjoy when made in like manner the dwelling- 
place of God. 

Hence the exultant strains of this Psalm. It calls 
upon the whole earth to worship the Lord, for He 
only is God. All are exhorted to come into His 
courts and offer Him their sacrifice of praise. As 
their Creator, they are bound to obey Him. As their 
King and Judge, they are in peril if they disobey Him. 
And the honor and majesty which are before Him, the 
strength and the beauty which are in His sanctuary, 
are at once the proof that He is worthy to be served, 
and a promise that in serving Him all men may find 
the highest and noblest life. 



STRENGTH AND BEAUTY 



179 



If I may be permitted to take an illustration of the 
text from what is just now in all our thoughts, I would 
point you to the massive and yet beautiful building 
which the citizens of this community are about to 
dedicate to the administration of justice.* Our new 
court-house finely combines the two qualities of 
strength and beauty. It is almost as massive as 
if made by nature itself, while the outlines are so 
artistic ; the proportion of parts is so harmonious ; the 
ornamentation, while simple, so appropriate, that as 
we look upon it we think less of its strength than 
of its beauty. And yet I may hope that we do not 
merely admire it as an ornament to our city, but also 
rejoice in it as a fit symbol of the just and yet merciful 
laws to whose administration it is consecrated. It 
represents the supremacy of law in this Republic ; our 
determination that law shall be enforced among us. 
Like the court-house, law is strong, and yet, in a sense, 
beautiful. It is the granite of our national structure, 
and we mean that it shall be sovereign among us, since 
liberty is secured only through the administration of 
law. Yet mercy and fraternity should temper justice. 
Ours is not the hard law of a despot, but a wise law 
framed by freemen for their own self-government and 
for the happiness of the community at large. Such, 
at least, is our ideal : and this strong and yet beautiful 
building may well express to us and to all comers the 

This sermon was preached in Pittsburgh, September 23, 1888. 



FAITH AND LIFE 



sovereignty and the humanity of the principle whose 
temple it is. So also the Hebrews did through the 
temple of Jehovah express His glory and the happi- 
ness of His people. 

When, now, we would apply the Psalmist's words to 
our circumstances, what do they mean? The answer 
is given by the question. What is now the sanctuary of 
God? The Hebrew temple has passed away, never 
to be reerected. What has taken its place? 

In one sense Jesus is the temple of God, for in Him 
God dwelt and dwells in all completeness. He Himself 
said, " Destroy this temple, and in three days I will 
raise it up." In Him dwells all the fullness of the 
Godhead bodily. Jesus, therefore, is the sanctuary' 
of God, at whose feet all men are to worship : and I 
think you will admit that in Jesus strength and beauty 
appear as nowhere else among men. He is the ideal 
man. His character contains every element of strength 
— profound knowledge, constant faith, ability to suffer 
for the truth, composure in the face of an assailing 
world. Yet his character contains also every element 
of beauty. He is tender as a woman, devoted in His 
love of man, humble and meek, gentle and patient, too. 
Each quality exists in accurate proportion in Him ; so 
that we may say, without hesitation and after the closest 
examination, that the architecture of Christ's character 
is absolutely perfect. 

But also the whole material universe is, in another 



STRENGTH AND BEAUTY l8l 

sense, the temple of God. God is everywhere. This 
world is the manifestation of His thought. Even 
Solomon, when he dedicated the temple, knew this, 
for he cried, " Will God indeed dwell on the earth ? 
behold, the heaven and heaven of heavens cannot 
contain Thee ; how much less this house that I have 
builded ? * ^ Hear Thou in heaven, Thy dwelling 
place: and when Thou hearest, forgive." And I am 
sure that the student of nature wdll agree that in this 
sense also, strength and beauty are in His sanc- 
tuary." We speak of " the powers " of nature, because 
we cannot but be impressed by the tremendous sweep 
and capacity of its forces. When, now and then, in 
some convulsion, they appear, as in the storm or earth- 
quake, we tremble at their awful might ; yet they are 
always working, and the vast and varied world of 
inorganic objects is built up by the mutual modifica- 
tions and interplay of these silent forces. It is a 
mighty world, a world of force, a texture woven out 
of motion, the investigation of which affords the 
clearest proof of the power of its Maker. And yet 
who would not say that it is a beautiful world ! By 
wondrous processes are these mighty forces made to 
play into each other's hands so as to produce exquisite 
beauty. Think of the hues of sunset, which no brush 
can reproduce ; of the colors and forms of vegetable 
life; of the adjustment of part to part in living organ- 
isms. God must love beauty, we infer. The Creator 



^ FAITH AND LIFE 



has not merely power, but a mind of infinite skill, for 
He has not only made this mighty temple of force, 
but He has so beautified it that it calls for the song of 
the poet and the joy of the artist, as well as the 
admiration of the man of science. 

*' There is a voiceless eloquence in earth, 
Telling of Him who gave her wonders birth ; 
And long may I remain the adoring child 
Of Nature's majesty, sublime or wild ; 
Hill, flood and forest, mountain, rock and sea — 
All take their terrors and their charms from Thee. 
From Thee — whose hidden but supreme control, 
Moves through the world, a universal soul." 

But if the text is true of Jesus and of nature, it is 
true also of that spiritual temple of which the New 
Testament tells us. God dwells in His Church. " Ye 
are built upon the foundation of the apostles and 
prophets, Jesus Christ Himself being the chief corner- 
stone, in whom all the building, fitly framed together, 
groweth unto an holy temple in the Lord ; in whom 
ye also are builded together for a habitation of God 
through the Spirit." So the individual believer is said 
to be the temple of God, because God dwells in him. 
" Know ye not," says the Apostle, " that ye are the 
temple of God and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in 
you ?" It is in this sense that I wish to use the words 
of the text. The sanctuary of God is a human soul 
that is governed and moulded by God. Such a soul 
is His temple. Of this is it true that strength and 



STRENGTH AND BEAUTY 



183 



beauty are in His sanctuary. Or, to put it in other 
words, a true Christian character is the reahzation of 
the highest ideal of what a man should be. 

There is nothing in all this busy world which is 
of such infinite value as are the characters which 
are being made. Every life is the building of a 
character, and that a character which, in its essential 
features, is to last forever. From childhood to old 
age the process advances. Sometimes we are uncon- 
scious of the work that is going on within us until 
surprised by the discovery that the structure is so far 
finished that it cannot be changed even though we 
wish to change it. But whether we are consciously 
directing the work or not, the building is going up. 
Some are making hideous structures in which they will 
themselves be doomed to misery, making jails and 
dungeons for their own immortal spirits. Others are 
doing better. But everything a man does reacts upon 
himself. If he give his life to helping others, he is 
making his own character noble. If he is injuring 
others, he is making his own character bad. I do not 
think that a man should make it his prime thought to 
cultivate himself It is better to forget himself and to 
live for others. But, even then, he is making himself, 
and every man should at least endeavor to make the 
most out of the materials which are within him, the 
opportunities which come to him, and the helps which 
are about him. 



FAITH AND LIFE 



I suppose that every one will admit that a noble 
character must contain in high degree, and in right 
proportions, just these two elements of which our 
text speaks, — strength and beauty. There must be 
strength of character. You cannot make a house out 
of sand, because the particles do not cohere to one 
another. Neither can you make a worthy character 
out of irresolution, vacillation, doubt, fear, instability. 
A true man must have ruling convictions, concentra- 
tion and constancy of purpose, firmness in the right as 
he sees it, power to endure reverses, positive purposes 
and ideas. These make a strong character. 

A true man also must have these elements of 
strength adorned by gentler virtues. Manliness is not 
mere strength. That was the old pagan idea, which 
has been replaced by a better. There must be refine- 
ment of feeling, humanity and benevolence, gentleness 
and patience. These make character beautiful. And 
the two elements must combine in right proportion. 
A merely strong character is as one-sided and im- 
perfect as a pugihst is an abnormal specimen of 
physical manhood. A merely gentle, loving character 
is often pitiably weak and unpractical. The two must 
unite, and, as in good architecture, so in good character- 
building, the beauty must not exist for its own sake, 
but to adorn the strength. A true man is strong in 
his convictions, but gentle in his judgments ; constant 
of purpose, but gentle to the weak and mindful of 



STRENGTH AXD BEAUTY 



185 



Others' rights ; positive, but humble ; energetic, but 
meek ; able to fight when necessary, but always de- 
sirous of peace. This is the ideal Avhich Christianity 
has taught the world, and which the world is slowly 
commg to understand. It is the ideal of character 
which I would hold before you ; and my declaration 
is that a true Christian alone will be able to realize 
this ideal. Only if your souls are God's temples can 
you be true men ; for strength and beauty are in His 
sanctuary. 

■Let me briefly suggest the elements of strength in 
a Christian character. 

It is made out of strong material. What is the 
material which composes Christian character ? It is, 
to express it in one phrase, the confidence of being, 
for Christ's sake, reconciled with God. That is the 
granite of which the li\-ing sanctuary- of God is built. 
Like the granite, it is composed of several elements. 
It is, for example, an intense behef, and any man who 
believes anything with all his might is so far forth a 
strong man. The strong men of all history have been 
intense believers : believers in an idea, or believers in a 
theor}^, or, if nothing more, belie\-ers in themselves. 
But no man is strong in whom doubt is a permanent 
quality, and the mere fact that a Christian beheves is 
of itself an element of strength. 

But, besides belief, this Christian character is com- 
posed of love to God. That of itself means much. It 



FAITH AND LIFE 



means that a great change has passed over the man's 
soul, whereby the naturally selfish tendency of his 
disposition has been forever reversed. If I may con- 
tinue the figure of stone, I would say that a new law 
of crystallization has taken control of the elements of 
character, so that instead of the tendency to disinte- 
grate, it now becomes harder and harder through being 
in love with God. The man has now found the right 
law of his being. He appreciates the supreme beauty 
and authority of God. He takes from God his stand- 
ard of life. He desires to be like God. He is con- 
fident that God is ruling the world, and therefore he 
does not fear men, nor fear trial, nor doubt about the 
issue. A man who thus loves and trusts God cannot 
but be a strong character. He will not be easily 
moved by any temptation. He will not be unduly 
anxious about the future. He will be in no hurry. 
He will have the calm assurance that, be the present 
mysteries what they may, all is going well. And he 
will feel that his life is inseparably Hnked with the 
Highest One himself Love is strong as death," 
says the old writer : and if we see instances of the 
love of man to man in which this is true, much 
more is it true that in proportion as a human soul 
loves God will it be firm against evil and strong 
for all good. The mighty granite masses out of 
which we quarry the material for our great buildings 
were once in a fluid, molten state, but they have 



STRENGTH AND BEAUTY 



187 



crystallized into the hardest of rocks. So will belief 
in God and Christ, and love to God in Christ, crys- 
tallize a soul into the strongest of characters. 

Then, too, a Christian character has a strong foun- 
dation as well as strong material. The sanctuary 
of God is built on the rock. I mean that underneath 
a Christian's life there hes the finished redemption 
which Jesus Christ has made for all who will accept 
it. That court-house could not have been built on 
springing ground or on wooden piles driven in a 
marsh. The first requirement for a large building is 
a good foundation. So, I say, the strength of a 
Christian character lies not only in the material out 
of which it is made, but in the foundation on which 
it stands. It stands on Christ, the Rock of Ages. 
"Whosoever heareth these sayings of mine, and 
doeth them," said Jesus, " I will liken him unto a 
wise man which built his house upon a rock." Un- 
derneath the Christian is the atonement for him 
which Jesus offered on Calvary, and the promise of 
God to justify every believer, and the power of the 
Saviour, who is even now sitting at the right hand 
of God, ruling and defending us, and interceding in 
our behalf That is a strong foundation. Think of a 
life which stands on such a rock as that. The strength 
of a character depends on what it has in reserve, on 
what is behind the outward appearance, as much as on 
what is visible. If so, that is the strongest character 



FAITH AND LIFE 



which has underneath it and round about it the ever- 
lasting arms. 

Then a Christian character has strong supports. 
Its parts are held together by strong beams. Its 
top rests on strong pillars. These are such as the 
following. It has a definite aim given to its life, and 
one which reason and conscience declare to be the 
highest. It lives for God. It blesses man in order to 
serve God. It sees in even the commonest work an 
opportunity of obedience to the heavenly Father ; and 
through all varieties of the fortunes and vicissitudes of 
life one crowning purpose, one holy spirit runs. It is 
also cheered by the assurance of God's love. Its love 
to God is no unreturned affection. On the contrary, 
it has itself been evoked in answer to God's love to 
man. So the warmth of God's love is ever fall- 
ing on a Christian character. It is supported by the 
promises, as by mighty pillars, which no Samson of 
infidelity can pull down. It is held together by divine 
commands, as by iron beams which apportion to each 
part of its life its proper works, as a building is divided 
into rooms and stories ; while from above the sunlight 
of hope falls from a never-clouded sky. 

Is there not strength in this sanctuary ? Such a 
man is a strong character. The foundation on which 
he rests, the material out of which his character is 
composed, the supports by which it is upheld and 
arranged, are all of granite and of iron. Such a char- 



STRENGTH AND BEAUTY 1 89 

acter is worth having. Its possessor will have a con- 
stant source of satisfaction. He cannot but be useful 
to others. He will be able to guide the thoughts of 
others. He will be one on whom other men will lean 
in their times of need. Oh, as we see some men tossed 
to and fro by doubts until they hardly know what to 
trust and what to hope for ; as we see others yielding 
Hke unmanly slaves to every assault of temptation, 
afraid of men, afraid of pain, afraid of themselves ; and 
trembhng as with weak hearts they think of death and 
the hereafter; we point you with joy to the possibility 
of every one becoming strong and useful and great, 
by opening your soul to the God who is willing to 
inhabit it. Strength is in His sanctuary. If you let 
Him be your master-builder, you may be strong. 

Yes, and your lives may be beautiful as well as 
strong. For beauty, too, is in His sanctuary. Cer- 
tainly, it is better to be strong than to be beautiful. 
The elements of strength are those which do the most 
important work. It is better that a building should 
be strong than that it should be ornamental. And the 
same is true of character as well. Ornament, more- 
over, ought to overlay strength. It is not good art to 
put into a building a useless feature merely because it 
is beautiful. The true artist will beautify the useful. 
The practical purpose will be first. So a character 
which aims to be merely beautiful is not to be admired. 
It becomes mere bric-a-brac. It has the taint of cos- 



190 



FAITH AND LIFE 



metics. The man who is absorbed in the mere adorn- 
ment of his character is not much beyond the man 
who is absorbed in the adornment of his body. No, 
beauty must be superimposed upon strength. The 
practical usefuhiess and moral power of life are to be 
the first things sought. Then you have something 
worth adorning. It is the hard stones which take the 
best polish. It is the strong, earnest characters which 
may be made the most beautiful. 

But, this being understood, beauty is to be desired. 
Let me point out, in a word, the beauty of a true 
Christian life. To my mind, it consists in the right 
proportion in which every element of a complete man- 
hood exists in it. This certainly is one of the prime 
elements of beauty of form, whether in man or other 
things ; and a beautiful mind or character is, I think, 
one marked by this same quality. A beautiful hfe is 
one which fulfills the relations in which it is placed, and 
estimates each one of them at the right value. It can 
perform the sterner duties and not neglect the gentler 
ones. It knows when to work and when to play. It 
renders the tribute due to superiors, inferiors, and 
equals. In each period of its existence it realizes the 
idea of that period. Most lives are obviously incom- 
plete. The material side crushes the spiritual ; the 
near obscures the distant ; a little truth hides a greater 
one. Most lives are also obviously ill balanced. The 
hurry to be rich strangles the duty to be just. The 



STRENGTH AND BEAUTY I9I 

desire to be great prevents the possibility of being 
kind. The love of pleasure mortgages the pleasure 
of the future for the apparent pleasure of the present. 
Do I not declare something to which your consciences 
assent when I say that the ordinary life of a worldly 
man is consciously incomplete and ill balanced, and 
that even if it be successful, and even if it have the ele- 
ments of strength, it is not beautiful? It is a distorted 
life. It is a deformed life. It is a misshapen life. It 
neglects as much as it attempts to perform. 

I point you, therefore, to the beauty of a Christian 
life. I do not say the life of all Christians, for the 
best of us are far from perfect ; but I point you to the 
life which has had one perfect exemplification and to 
which we all aspire. The Christian idea of life is 
beautiful as well as strong. It considers its duties to 
God as w^ell as those to men. It praises the passive 
virtues as much as the active. It does not allow the 
material to smother the spiritual, nor the spiritual to 
despise the material. It stoops to little things, and 
aspires to great things. It teaches man's responsibility 
for motives as well as his accountability for acts and 
words. It lives in the world and yet above the world. 
It combines faith in the transitory character of all earthly 
things, with energy in the performance of present duty. 
It reconciles sorrow and joy in human existence. It 
puts man in his proper sphere, directs his eye toward 
eternity, enables him to walk and live happily on earth, 



192 



FAITH AND LIFE 



makes him useful, and teaches him to die with peace 
and hope. 

This is the Hfe of a soul which is the temple of the 
living God. Do you not feel that, as a whole, it is 
complete, and that in its parts it is rightly propor- 
tioned? Aye, strength and beauty are in His sanc- 
tuary. I have seen such characters ; doubtless you 
have, too. I have seen them suffer without faint- 
ing, work without murmuring, believe against hope. 
I have seen them live with God as truly and as mani- 
festly as they Hved in their own homes. This 
model I hold up to you. If you want to be a 
character of this type, the secret of it lies before 
you. Not by making your souls the abode of 
envy and selfishness and passion can your char- 
acter become strong and beautiful. Not, if you 
merely fill your mind with knowledge, though it 
be useful knowledge, can you rise to a complete 
manhood. You must admit God into your hearts. 
He will make your souls strong and beautiful. 

His Son is the one unblemished example of a sanc- 
tuary without a flaw or weakness. Yet you may be con- 
formed unto the image of His Son. I pray you to make 
your souls His home. Remember that you are build- 
ing characters — that everything you think and do helps 
to improve or mar them. Remember that character 
bears the power of retribution in itself, and that the 
character you build will be either your prison or your 



STRENGTH AND BEAUTY 



palace, your torture or your blessing, your hell or 
your heaven. Remember that you were made to be 
the dwelling-place of God, and that the very capacity 
of goodness and greatness which is within you will 
make the ruin more disastrous if you fall. Make, then, 
God welcome to your soul. Admit Him. Enthrone 
Him. Place Him in the holy of holies. Make your life 
to centre in Him and His word. Strength and beauty 
are in His sanctuary, and you will find it so. Be you 
the weakest, be you the vilest, you will become all that 
a man should be, for His strength will become your 
strength. His beauty your beauty. Build your char- 
acter for God and by God's help. Be a true Christian; 
so will you become a true man. 

13 



i 



i 



XI 



THE FALSE AND THE TRUE MEASUREMENT 

— But they, measuring themselves by themselves, and comparing 
themselves among themselves, are not wise." — 2 Cor. x. 12. 

To SOME people the world is very small. They 
know but a little part of it, and this they imagine to 
be all there is. Or, if not ignorant, they think that 
only the part with which they are intimately connected 
is worth knowing or considering. To them this 
is practically the world. They belong to a small 
circle which plays the same part in their lives that em- 
pires and millions play in the lives of nations. It may 
be a social, a political, a Hterary, or a religious coterie ; 
or it may combine several of these characteristics. 
But its smile is their joy, its frown their sorrow. To 
stand first in it is their ambition. Their keenest 
pleasure is its applause ; their deepest mortification is 
its contempt. It gives them their standard of living ; 
it prescribes their rewards and their privations ; it 
creates and limits their aspirations. In short, their 
little coterie is their world, and within its circle there 
rage all the passions and there exist all the pleasures 
of a larger life, just as a drop of water, under the 
microscope, looks Hke a little sea. 

195 



196 



FAITH AND LIFE 



Yet the real world without may not even be aware 
that their little coterie exists. It is, in fact, but a 
squad of a company in a regiment of a brigade in 
a single division of the army. Were it annihilated, 
the loss would not be great. To those who have seen 
more of the world, its rewards appear trifling and its 
opposition is a matter of indifference. Its standards 
are seen to fall far short of reality. It is a petty affair 
itself, and its measurements and comparisons are pre- 
sumptuous or amusing. Whether it be a king's court, 
or a religious sect, or a social cHque, or any other 
kind of fraternity, its ambitions and jealousies and 
laurels, to one who has become aware of a greater 
world beyond it, appear as insignificant as a child's 
hfe does in comparison with a man's. 

Nevertheless, in these little spheres are our lots cast. 
We cannot be citizens of the world. We must be 
identified with particular places and people. It is only 
the narrow spirit which mistakes our circle for the 
world against which we are to contend. To be really 
wise, we must learn to look beyond our own con- 
tracted sphere; must catch sight of the real world 
outside of it ; must try to realize the small part which 
we and our company play in the life of the countless 
host of humanity; must seek to find the fuller truth 
which lies beyond, and then must return to the little 
world in which we must needs live, bringing into it 
the standards and the aims which are drawn from the 



THE FALSE AND THE TRUE MEASUREMENT 1 97 

greater world without, and by which even the least 
affairs may be dignified and made honorable. 

I see this idea intimated in our text. It appears that 
the little Corinthian church had become such a narrow 
coterie as I have described, and the great apostle 
was sorely vexed by its divisions and its jealousies. 
It was split into parties, and amid their contentions 
the greater Church without and the world-wide mission 
of the Gospel were forgotten. They were chiefly con- 
cerned with the eloquence of this or that preacher. 
They probably thought that there was no church so 
important as that in Corinth, and began to boast of 
themselves over against each other and those outside, 
until the heart of St. Paul was ready to break with 
grief over their folly. 

In contrast with his broad, catholic mind, how 
petty seem their shameful brawls ! From his point 
of view this was but one of many churches ; Greece 
but one of many lands. The world was the object 
of his solicitude. His plans embraced the Roman 
Empire itself. His laurels, too, were those given not 
by man, but by God. His whole estimate of him- 
self and of them, and his view of truth and life, were 
in magnificent contrast to their narroAv and petty spirit. 
His was the eye of a statesman and the heart of a 
pioneer, and he seems to have expressed himself 
moderately when he assured them, in view of their 
little cliques and parties, that they who measure 



198 FAITH AND LIFE 

themselves by themselves, and compare themselves 
among themselves, are not wise. 

Let us take this, as we have seen, a too common 
error, and see if, in principle, it be not the great error 
of mankind, — if it be not the practical mistake by 
which, more than by aught else, men's consciences are 
dulled, their desire for true character is perverted, and 
an appreciation of Jesus Christ is prevented. We 
have spoken of the little, trivial coteries in which 
men often find their world. Let us now look not 
at them, but at the actual world itself, and see how 
men, in like manner, take from it their standards and 
measurements, unmindful of what still lies beyond it. 

Is not this the common way ? Men measure them- 
selves among themselves, and compare themselves 
with themselves. Human society is the gauge of 
virtue. This world's laurels are its sole desire. 
The frown of the world chills the heart ; its transient 
applause fills the heart with joy. Men are afraid to 
face the ridicule or opposition of others. They imitate 
each other slavishly. One rich or successful man 
becomes a model to a hundred. What societ}^ thinks, 
is esteemed to be truth and right. Social custom is 
law. In fine, the common way of the world is to 
make it the measure of its own virtue and the giver of 
its own reward. It is only a larger coterie. Its prin- 
ciple of judgment is but the working out, on a wider 
scale, of the narrowness of folly which the world itself 



THE FALSE AND THE TRUE MEASUREMENT 1 99 



satirizes when it is practised in some smaller circle 
within its own bounds. For, meanwhile, one who has 
caught sight of a still greater universe beyond this 
world, feels that the world's standard is still too small. 
This is the very thing which in all ages and in all 
religions has made prophets and martyrs. The world 
itself honors those who have denied and defied its 
standards. They have believed that its rewards were 
not worthy to be compared with those which a greater 
world would give. They have believed that they 
saw truth scouted or perverted by society, and have 
chosen to live for it, in spite of society's customs. 
To them, therefore, the world at large is guilty of 
the same folly of which the narrowest clique is. 

You take one who has always lived in a secluded 
place and introduce him to the business or society 
of a metropolis, and the effect upon him will fairly 
illustrate what inspiration works in a mind when it 
reveals to it the issues of this life, and the measure- 
ments which prevail in the vaster world beyond our 
present range of vision. From such a revelation one 
returns with an oppressive sense of the partiality and 
pettiness of this world's judgments, and with the feel- 
ing that many of them will be forever reversed when 
life is measured by the standard of absolute truth and 
worth. 

Let me point out some of the ways in which 
this folly is practised, and the first two shall be ways 



200 



FAITH AND LIFE 



in the criticism of which we shall doubtless all be 
agreed. 

Take the matter of culture or knowledge. Who 
is the wise man ? Shall we decide this by measur- 
ing ourselves by ourselves, and comparing ourselves 
among ourselves ? Some do so. The besetting sin 
of culture is pride, and this because it is so prone to 
compare itself favorably with the less educated mul- 
titude. It is apt to congratulate itself that it knows 
more than others. It has read more widely. It is 
familiar with more languages. It has accumulated a 
larger store of facts. It has studied Nature and the 
sciences, and is instructed in the wonderful discoveries 
and the equally wonderful theories of the day. In its 
coarser forms, this becomes mere pedantry. The man 
who boasts of his education must have a very low 
standard. Nothing is more offensive than such pe- 
dantry, with its displays of learning which are so 
often combined with really profound ignorance. 

True culture is not guilty of this folly, — and for 
the reason that it is more imipressed by the greater 
amount yet to be known than by the compara- 
tively little which has been acquired. Instead of 
comparing itself with the ignorance of others, it will 
think of those who are still more advanced and press 
on toward their place. Is its study history ? It will 
caution us in drawing inferences, and make us con- 
scientious in the investigation of facts. Is nature 



THE FALSE AND THE TRUE MEASUREMENT 201 

its study? It will recognize that but a little space 
has been cleared, and vastly more is still shrouded 
in darkness. Hence humility is an essential mark 
of true culture. It will be ready to admit mis- 
takes. It will feel the need of caution. It will 
wholly revolt from the measurements which the 
world is apt to make, and feel rather that they are 
not worthy to be named in the presence of the 
ideal of truth and knowledge which the really wise 
man has. 

Or turn from culture to consider social position. Who 
is the great man ? Who is the honorable man ? Shall 
we decide by measuring ourselves by ourselves, and 
comparing ourselves among ourselves ? Some do so. 
One is a little richer than another ; one thinks himself 
a little better born and bred. One has mounted on a 
little pinnacle of political fame, and for the moment is 
the object of all eyes. The world is full of such little 
great men, — great in the view of this or that nation, — 
it may be only of this or that party ; and by compar- 
ing the outward state of men's lives, — by measuring 
their fortunes or their renown, — the world is apt to de- 
cide who shall bear its honorable names. Yet the world 
itself knows that its estimate is false, and it ridicules the 
favored objects of its own judgment. It cannot help 
seeing that time changes the relative positions of men, 
and that what is so changeable cannot be of real worth. 
Society is almost as restless and varying as the waves 



202 



FAITH AND LIFE 



of the sea; now the drops are on the crest, and 
now they are in the trough of the billows. The world, 
I say, itself feels that character is the only test of real 
worth, as it is the only thing that lasts through the 
changes, and that character must be judged by a far 
higher standard than that which ordinary society em- 
ploys. To rely on the judgments of society in this 
matter is folly, for these judgments are soon reversed. 
There must be another test, found not in society, but 
in the great ideals of virtue, purity, and righteousness, 
of which ordinary society is but dimly conscious, but 
which, in reahty, decide true worth. 

So far, I suppose, all will agree, and yet we have not 
applied the principle in the really most important 
direction. We have only to apply it to morals in 
order to become aware of the real danger which lurks 
in our common error. For, let us ask. Who is the 
good man ? Shall we decide this, too, by measuring 
ourselves by ourselves, and comparing ourselves 
among ourselves ? Many do so. Is not this, in fact, 
the common way of estimating moral characters ? 
Men say, " The good man is he who fulfils the social 
standard." Society requires a certain amount of 
honesty, a certain amount of decency, ordinary truth- 
fulness, general morality of life. It is not particular as 
to the motives from which these spring. It is content 
with the thing itself. Neither is it particular about the 
degree to which these are carried. If men are hard 



I 



THE FALSE AND THE TRUE MEASUREMENT 203 



pressed, they may quietly violate the social standard 
without much danger. 

But the gauge of goodness is the outward habits 
of society, the common customs of the country. 
It is a standard which does not concern itself with 
the motives which lie beneath conduct, or with the 
heaven which Hes above it, but only with the society 
which Hes about it and on the same plane with 
itself. Hence the practical test of goodness is 
just this comparison of one with another. Men 
say, " Look at the vicious, the criminal classes, that 
violate with impunity the social laws : are we not 
much better than they? Nay, look at the men of 
our class. I am as honest as yonder Christian ; as 
self-respecting, as much trusted in the world. I am 
not guilty of the foUies in which these others quietly 
indulge. I am not mean or stingy like some one else 
I know. I am quite as liberal as those who belong to 
the Church." Such is the theory of many people, and 
such the practice of many more. They measure them- 
selves by themselves, and compare themselves among 
themselves. The whole question of their own moral 
worth is decided by a comparison of their own with 
the virtues or vices of other men. They never rise 
beyond the judgment of this world. In a multitude 
of ways, both great and little, their whole estimate of 
goodness turns on differences which may be noted in 
mankind itself. 



204 



FAITH AND LIFE 



Now we say, with the apostle, of such a doctrine 
of goodness, that it is not wise : both because it is 
necessarily proud and because it is evidently partial. 
It is proud. There is in it the very essence of self- 
righteousness. The most it can do for a man is to 
make him satisfied with himself If he comes up to its 
mark, he is apt to be conceited and boastful ; perhaps 
not offensively, but yet in a quiet, complacent way, 
undoubtedly so. Its judgment does not go beyond 
that of the Pharisee : " God, I thank Thee that I 
am not as other men are." Then it is evidently a 
partial and ignorant estimate. It is ignorant in its 
judgment of other people. What does this com- 
placent critic know of the real life of the neighbors 
with whom he favorably contrasts himself? They 
may have virtues of which he knows absolutely noth- 
ing. He is ignorant, too, of his own real state. He 
does not think how his motives and principles appear 
when judged from a higher point of view. 

This is the common morality of the world. It is 
the great foe to the gospel. It is the shield under 
which multitudes hide themselves from the arrows of 
God's truth. And what is it, when fairly examined, but 
the same narrow and foolish spirit which in the matters 
of culture and social position we are so ready to con- 
demn ? Oh, it is impossible that this should not be a 
great mistake. If, from our broader knowledge of the 
world and of mankind, we look down with disdain on 



THE FALSE AND THE TRUE MEASUREMENT 205 



the little cliques and coteries in which some narrow 
minds find their standard and their happiness ; if the 
man who has travelled and observed much, ridicules 
the pettiness of those who think their little sect or 
village the pattern and gauge of the universe; ought 
not we, who too frequently find in this larger world its 
own judge and own juiy, to look upward and beyond 
it, and ask if there be not a larger sphere still, of which 
ours is but a fragment ? God tells us that there is. 
Conscience tells us so. The very ideals of truth and 
righteousness tell us so. There are many moun- 
tain peaks from which we look out on the mighty 
universe, and from which our hamlets below are scarcely 
visible ; and from these ought you and I to return to 
our daily spheres not to measure ourselves by our- 
selves, or to compare ourselves among ourselves, but 
rather convinced that it is for man to be humble in his 
culture, humble in his estimate of his own importance, 
and, most of all, humble in his opinion of his own 
character and moral deserts. 

Thus, then, in some way the common error must 
be escaped. Yet as men are by nature they have 
scarcely any other test available. They have certain 
instinctive ideals, certain great aspirations after a nobler 
life, but these are vague and impracticable instructors. 
Is there no other standard by which men may estimate 
themselves ? Let us confine ourselves to the question 
of goodness. This is the really important question, and 



206 



FAITH AND LIFE 



the one about which there is the most difference of 
opinion. If we are not to measure ourselves by our- 
selves, and compare ourselves among ourselves, with 
what are we to be measured and compared? 

The Bible answers this, as I have intimated, by dis- 
closing a world above this. It takes us to the lofty 
tops of its Sinai, and Hermon, and Olivet, and to the 
spot called Calvary, where a still wider view of the 
unseen world is offered. The Bible does for us in this 
matter what the Copernican theory has done for astron- 
omy. It locates this world in its real place and rela- 
tions in the universe. The astronomer has now mapped 
out the heavens, and as in fancy the mind flies under 
his guidance through the measureless distances of 
space, — as the multitudinous stars resolve themselves 
into systems, — one begins to feel that the earth is a 
much smaller affair than we have thought ; that so far 
from being the centre of the universe, it is one of the 
least of its constituent members, and that, whatever 
may be true of the earth itself, the universe must have 
been created for far wider ends than the mere Hfe of the 
sons of Adam. 

So does the Christian revelation disclose a spir- 
itual universe above this world. We discover that 
the battle between good and evil, of which each of 
us knows something in his own soul, is a conflict in 
which spiritual powers of good and evil are engaged. 
It opens to us a world of angelic and glorified beings ; 



THE FALSE AND THE TRUE MEASUREMENT 20/ 

and then it passes beyond even these to disclose Christ, 
in whom there shines forth the character of the unseen, 
eternal, infinite God. It does not stop until it thus 
reaches the centre and source of all existence, and 
from this lofty point it shows that all things, down to 
the very least in the scale, have worth according as 
they do or do not fulfil their part in relation to Him 
who is above all. Here, then, we reach the only point 
of view for a just estimate, and the comparison of man 
with man seems now still more petty and worthless. 
Here we discover the law to be kept, the ideal to be 
reahzed, the test to be applied. Earth is but the 
footstool of the great King. We who live at His feet 
are to see in Him the measure of moral worth. " Be 
ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in 
heaven is perfect." 

Thus we learn what is man's only true Hfe, and 
thereby we can measure ourselves as we never can do 
under the influence of false views of life generated by 
the world. The Lord told us the great secret when He 
said, " This is life eternal that they might know Thee 
the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom Thou 
hast sent " — and the apostle makes the practical 
application of this now open secret when he sets 
over against the petty jealousies and ambitions of 
Corinth this motto : " He that glorieth, let him glory 
in the Lord." His words are quoted from Jere- 
miah, and the old prophet's language is worth re- 



208 



FAITH AND LIFE 



membering. "Thus saith the Lord," he cried, "Let 
not the wise man glory in his wisdom, neither let 
the mighty man glory in his might, let not the rich 
man glory in his riches : but let him that glorieth 
glory in this, that he understandeth and knoweth 
Me." 

You see that this is the divine idea of what human 
life ought to be. It is that manner of thinking, and 
living, and acting which is determined by the knowl- 
edge of God Himself It differs from the common 
life of men by being determined by a different object. 
The life of most men, such as I have described it, is 
determined by the customs, the laws, the pursuits of 
other men, and of the world. These make up life's 
environment. From them it takes its standards and 
tests. By them it measures and compares itself. In 
them it lives. But this is not our proper element. 
This is not our true life. We were made to be deter- 
mined in all our living by God himself. This is life, 
yea, eternal life, to know Him, the only true God, and 
Jesus Christ whom He has sent. 

Take a child of naturally fine abilities and of high 
birth, and place him amongst the poor and ignorant, 
and in vicious surroundings, and he will be contami- 
nated by them. They will supply his idea of life. If he 
be a little better than most of his associates, he will 
still be infected by their ways. Yet he was not made 
for that. He was made for a purer circle and a nobler 



THE FALSE AND THE TRUE MEASUREMENT 20g 

lot, and he will discover his true character, he will 
be able to judge of his unfortunate circumstances, only 
by being taken back into the place which ought to 
have been his at the first. Then in a new home, with 
new friends, with better aims, he discovers his true 
life, and he looks back with horror equally at the state 
in which he once was, and at the ignorance with which 
he was then blinded. 

So when God comes into a man's sight, when 
he knows God and begins to love Him, a new life 
begins. Then at once the man's estimate of himself 
changes. Instead of comparing himself with others, 
he compares himself with God. Instead of thinking 
how much he is above others, he thinks how far he is 
below God. And, what is still more important, instead 
of judging others and himself by outward deeds, 
he judges himself at least by the inner state of his 
heart. He feels that life with God is a matter not of 
the body, but of the soul, and that eveiy motive of 
the mind ought to be in harmony with God. There- 
upon he begins to question his motives. He looks 
more narrowly into his passions and appetites. He 
is ashamed of his thoughts. He feels that he 
owes duties to God as well as to men. Religion 
becomes a necessity for him. His true life is a 
religious life. He thinks not of human society with 
its narrow and changing views, but of divine society 
with its real and eternal relations. His pride is 

14 



210 



FAITH AND LIFE 



rebuked. His selfishness begins to blush. He becomes 
aware of his sinfulness. He sees what he ought to be 
and knows that he is not. He cries no longer, God, 
I thank Thee that I am not as other men are !" He 
does not even consider what other men are, for at 
them he looks no longer. He looks at God, and then 
at his own soul, and cries, " God be merciful to me a 
sinner !" 

I would like you to note in what ways God has 
provided for our becoming aware of the true meas- 
urement of life. What means does He employ thus 
to show us what we ought to be and are not ? 

There is, first, the revelation of His law, — the old 
Jewish way, and yet a way still to be used. He has 
revealed to us our duty, and it is summed up, as Christ 
said, in these words, "Thou shalt love the Lord thy 
God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and 
with all thy strength, and with all thy mind ; and thy 
neighbor as thyself." See what a law this is ! It 
regards not our acts so much as our motives. Thou 
shalt love ! It makes God supreme and first. It puts 
our neighbors on a level with ourselves. We cannot 
but admit that such would be the noblest life; and this 
is God's revealed law — the least violation of which is sin. 

Paul describes the change wrought thus in him. 
Once without the law, when he paid it no attention, he 
was alive. He thought himself so. He was proud of 
his attainment of self-righteousness. He was the 



THE FALSE AND THE TRUE MEASUREMENT 211 



typical Pharisee. He measured himself with the Gen- 
tiles, compared himself with the publicans. '* I am 
holier than thou." But by the grace of God the com- 
mandment came to him, that is, he realized its require- 
ments. He became aware how far short he had fallen. 
How he had sinned against man and God. He looked 
at it as an impossible peak that he never could climb. 
Sin revived within him — he became conscious of its 
presence — and he died — he felt himself a lost, dis- 
obedient man. Let any one now do the same, face 
the law, look at its requirement, and even the man 
who by earthly measurements ranks the highest, will 
be forced to say that, like all the rest, he, too, is a 
sinner. 

But God has taken a still more effective way of 
showing us the true standard. He has embodied His 
whole law in the character of one, Jesus Christ, His 
Son. The character of Christ is the simple, practi- 
cal, universally applicable standard by which we can 
rebuke the partial false measurements of the world. 
Christ has made a new ideal of life for men. He is 
like the rising sun, in whose light we see the hue and 
shape of things. How narrow the Jews look, how 
poor the royalty of Herod, how presumptuous the 
claims of Rome, before Him ! He has left us an 
example that we should follow His steps; "who did 
no sin, neither was guile found in His mouth : who, 
when He was reviled, reviled not again ; when He 



212 



FAITH AND LIFE 



suffered, He threatened not ; but committed Himself to 
Him that judgeth righteously." Here is living for 
God in its perfection — by faith, by obedience, by self- 
sacrifice, in pureness, in love. When on earth, He 
silenced the disciples who contended as to which was 
the greatest, by showing them that they were to be 
servants of all. He awakened the sense of sin in the 
minds of all who appreciated His beauty. He was and 
is God's great rebuke to us as well as our Saviour, — 
saving because rebuking, leading to life with God, be- 
cause showing the folly and sin of life with the world. 

Let a man bring himself into Christ's presence, and 
he will feel that his life needs renovation. Though, 
measuring himself with others, he may be inclined 
to flatter his pride, it is not so when measuring him- 
self with Christ. Here the best and the poorest, 
according to our estimate, say, " We are not worthy." 
In Christ, man sees his duty and his failure, his 
ideal and his sad reality. The petty differences be- 
tween men themselves seem small before this difference 
between all men and Christ. Before Him it is impos- 
sible to measure ourselves by ourselves, and compare 
ourselves among ourselves. We are too conscious of 
the comparison with Him, and at the feet of Jesus, 
pride, self-righteousness, jealousy, envy, — all that is 
false and mean, — hide their heads in shame, feeling 
themselves to be only the more condemned. 

I appeal to you practically to make this the test 



i 

I 



THE FALSE AND THE TRUE MEASUREMENT 21 3 

of yourselves. Some of us are under this delusion : 
we measure ourselves with other people. We think 
we are as good as they are, that if they are saved, 
certainly we shall be. Perhaps meaner thoughts, — 
jealous and envious, — lurk within. But let us not 
look at others at all. In this matter we have nothing 
to do with them. We are before God. What is His 
judgment ? What is the real truth ? I do not see how 
anyone can venture to measure himself with Christ 
without feeling his need of redemption, of entire re- 
newal ; his need of atoning blood and of divine 
spiritual power. I plead with you to cast your self- 
confidence to the winds. Look beyond this little 
world, these narrow spheres, the ignorance and blun- 
ders of common life ; look up to God. Feel that you 
were made for Him, and that you need Him. Take 
His estimate of you rather than the world's. Take 
His way of salvation. Think of God's judgment, and 
seek from Jesus Christ the eternal Hfe. 



XII 



ENOCH 

"And Enoch walked with God: and he was not; for God took 
him." — Genesis v. 24. 

The men through whom God speaks to us most 
plainly are commonly exceptional characters. In some 
marked particulars they differ from the common types, 
and the points in which they differ are those from 
which we learn the most. They emphasize so strongly 
some principle that it becomes a peculiar mark which 
distinguishes them from other men, and is apt to 
absorb their whole attention and make them in some 
respects one-sided or, at least, men of one idea. 
God does not intend all to be like them in this, 
but, in order that the truth which they convey may 
be given its fair share in the attention of others, 
it must be intensely exhibited in the lives of a few. 
Truth must sometimes be even exaggerated in order 
to be estabHshed. It will find afterwards its true place 
and proportion, but at the beginning it must be pro- 
claimed as if it alone were true. They who bear in 
their lives, therefore, the messages of God to us have 
been exceptional characters. The Bible often exhibits 
but one view of their lives in order that it alone may 

215 



2l6 FAITH AND LIFE 

be remembered. They are meant to stand out boldly 
and in relief from the common level of the world that 
they may catch our eyes and impress our minds. 

In some such relief the figure of Enoch stands out 
from the dull, monotonous Hst of the antediluvian patri- 
archs. They all, indeed, appear to have been excep- 
tions to the common life and habits of their distant age. 
We know almost nothing of that former world. The 
Bible does not delay upon it, further than to trace the 
two great lines of the children of Cain and those of Seth. 
It was written for us to whom the world after the 
flood, — the world which began again in the children 
of Noah, — is practically the only world. It hastens 
over the long lives of the early patriarchs with scarcely 
more than mention of their names. We see indi- 
cated only that among the descendants of Cain some 
progress was made in the arts ; that cities were 
founded ; that the true religion was preserved among 
a few, while the majority of men fell into very evil 
ways ; that, as in later times, the wicked persecuted 
the righteous. These are about the only items of in- 
formation that have been handed down. The whole 
race was soon swept away, and history was to take a 
new start. It was unnecessary, therefore, to do more 
than connect the later age with that of the first temp- 
tation and the fall; and to do this by recording the list 
of faithful men who, unlike the mass of their contem- 
poraries, preserved from generation to generation the 



ENOCH 



217 



faith which in the new age after the deluge was to be 
first conserved and then spread abroad. 

But while of the other patriarchs, whose long lives 
connected Adam, the father of the first world, with 
Noah, the father of the second, nothing is known be- 
yond the fact of their existence and the length of their 
lives, the sacred writers have intimated that Enoch 
was especially noteworthy. He was evidently a vigor- 
ous exception to the society of his day. He appears 
to have been a prophet ; like Noah, too, a preacher of 
righteousness; and to have boldly declaimed against 
the sins of the men about him, warning them of 
their certain punishment. This we learn from the 
book of Jude, where that writer seems to place the 
seal of inspiration upon the common Jewish tradi- 
tion of his day, teUing us that Enoch, the seventh 
from Adam, prophesied against all future unright- 
eousness, saying, " Behold, the Lord cometh with ten 
thousands of His saints, to execute judgment upon 
all, and to convince all that are ungodly among them 
of all their ungodly deeds which they have ungodly 
committed, and of all their hard speeches which un- 
godly sinners have spoken against Him." This single 
extract gives us a glimpse into the moral position 
which Enoch occupied. He was a protestant against 
the ways of the world about him. He proclaimed the 
inevitable coming of the Lord to judgment. In the 
eyes of the later Christian writer, Enoch was the first 



2l8 



FAITH AND LIFE 



of the long line of prophets and apostles who have 
rebuked the sins of their several ages, and warned 
men to fly from the wrath to come. 

But this early prophet seems to have been not only 
an exception to the mass of society about him, but 
exceptional even among the good. For why else 
should the writer of Genesis have thought him worthy 
of special comment even in this meagre and rapid 
genealogy? This fifth chapter of Genesis is solemn 
in its very brevity. It is like the tolling of a bell, 
announcing birth and death. It tells us of the vanity 
of life, when generations come and go with a mention 
only of their entrance and their exit. It is human life 
skeletonized. We hear in it the tramp of battalions 
of the dead. It reduces life to its simplest elements. 
" Seth lived a hundred and five years and begat Enos ; 
and Seth Hved after he begat Enos eight hundred and 
seven years, and begat sons and daughters : and all 
the days of Seth were nine hundred and twelve 
years, and he died." That is a specimen of the whole. 
Eight times the simple words " and he died " dismiss, 
as with a gesture, the lives of men whose years 
reached to centuries, and who doubtless did much 
that was noble and good during the term of their 
pilgrimage. But over Enoch the writer hngers for a 
moment. There was something in his religious life 
worthy of special remembrance. It is summed up 
in the expressive words, " He walked with God." He 



i 



ENOCH 



219 



was saintlier than even the saints ; more devout than 
even the faithful. His reproofs came well from the lips 
of one who seemed to be ever in the presence of the 
Almighty. While the art and the culture of that dim 
age have perished, while even the good deeds of good 
men have been unrecorded, the character of the man 
of whom it was right to say emphatically that he 
walked with God, has been preserved to be an exam- 
ple and a stimulus to us men of a new world and a 
later day. 

That this was no false judgment of posterity upon 
the character of Enoch is proved by the fact that 
he was honored by being, most of all, exceptional 
in the manner of his departure from earth. He did 
not live as long as the rest of the patriarchs. All 
the days of Enoch were three hundred and sixty-five 
years. He suddenly disappeared. It has been sup- 
posed by some that he was persecuted, and that the 
simple phrase, "God took him," is designed to intimate 
that the Lord caught him away from the hatred of a 
wicked world. At any rate, long before the natural 
term of his life was reached, " he was not found, for 
God had translated him." We are told nothing of the 
manner of his translation. We hear of no chariots of 
fire, as in the case of Elijah. But, from a life with 
God on earth, he was taken to a closer life with God 
elsewhere, and thus peculiar honor was set upon his 
name; and as by his character he gave the world an 



220 



FAITH AND LIFE 



example of how to live, so in his departure hence 
he has given a lesson of how such a life may end. 

Thus his dim form becomes somewhat more distinct 
as we study it. The moral of his life is plain. He is 
no gigantic myth. Ignorance has not exaggerated his 
shape and deeds. The sober quiet of inspiration has 
been maintained even in this most ancient tradition ; 
and the name of Enoch suggests now just what God 
intended it to suggest. The exceptional features of his 
life have been preserved for our instruction. The rest 
may perish with the age to which Enoch belonged. 

We may consider first the description of his char- 
acter. He is not the only man in Scripture of whom 
it is said that he walked with God. The same is 
said of Noah; and in one of the Psalms (the 1 6th) 
we find an expression which intimates a like fellowship. 
" I have set the Lord always before me," says David ; 
" because He is at my right hand, I shall not be 
moved." In connection, however, with most others 
of the ancient saints we have another phrase, express- 
ive of a less intimate communion with God. Abra- 
ham and Isaac and Jacob are said to have walked 
before the Lord, as though they were ever mindful of 
His watchful eye. So Hezekiah prayed, " I beseech 
Thee, O Lord, remember now how I have walked 
before Thee in truth and with a perfect heart, and have 
done that which is good in Thy sight." The Psalmist 
likewise exclaims, " I will walk before the Lord in the 



ENOCH 



221 



land of the living." This phrase, " To walk with God," 
seems to suggest more intimate companionship. Very 
often do we see the beginning and the end of a process 
of history converge ; and so here, in the dawn of 
religion, this patriarch anticipated the closer fellowship 
with his Maker which Christ has now instituted with 
His people, but which the Jewish dispensation, with its 
strong consciousness of sin, did not always as fully 
exhibit. We are reminded of how Christ promised, 
" Lo, I am with you alway," and of how He prayed 
for us, " That they all may be one ; as Thou, Father, 
art in Me, and I in Thee, that they also may be one in 
us." We recall also the apostle's declaration, " Our 
fellowship is with the Father, and with His Son Jesus 
Christ." This, I say, Enoch did. By him Eden had 
been regained, and, almost as man had done before 
the fall, he walked with God. 

Now we have in this the model of a spiritual Chris- 
tian life, and I would like you to compare your daily 
living with this example. We here see a man on terms 
of intimate fellowship with God. There is the inter- 
change of thought between them. The Maker receives 
the aspiration, the prayer, and the love of the creature ; 
and the creature receives directly, without any inter- 
vention, the truth, the love, the spiritual influence of his 
Maker. It is the communion of friends, — no less real 
because the one is infinitely greater than the other. 
What a marvellous truth this is ! How incredible it 



222 



FAITH AND LIFE 



has always seemed to skeptical minds, and equally so 
to those that are merely superstitious. How false 
religion has cast man prostrate at the feet of his 
Maker, like a slave before a savage lord, utterly 
ignorant of the compassion of Him who said, " I call 
you not servants, but friends, for all things that I have 
heard of my Father I have made known unto you " ! 
How philosophy has ridiculed the notion of God com- 
muning with man, — has bound Him in His majesty or 
in His law, — not permitting Him to touch His creatures 
save through the agency of force and nature ! But 
how sublimely has practical experience disproved 
both superstition and philosophy, and demonstrated 
the truth of Bible teaching, that like as a father 
pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that 
fear Him, and that He is not far from any one of us ! 
This representation does not degrade the Almighty. 
Far from it. It humanizes God indeed. But then it 
is the very summit-truth of revelation, that God has 
become man ; and the possibiHty of such direct spir- 
itual fellowship was forever established when the Son 
of God appeared on earth and mingled with the life 
of man, and when He, departing, said, "A little 
while and the world seeth Me no more; but ye see 
Me : because I live, ye shall live also." But how it 
exalts man ! 

We say, then, that Enoch gave us the model 
which all truly spiritual minds have sought to follow, 



ENOCH 



223 



and just in proportion as this personal fellowship is felt 
will faith be mighty. A few years since, in France, a 
woman who had found Christ through the work of the 
McAll Mission, gathered some friends in her room to 
read the Scriptures, and when she had finished she 
led them in prayer. When she rose, one exclaimed 
in astonishment, " Do you talk in that way to God ?" 
Never had the poor soul dared to speak freely to 
his Maker. Never before had he thought it possible 
to find the Almighty for himself and in his own soul. 
Yet this is the personal religion of the Bible ; and as 
the force which holds the worlds together does so 
by acting upon each little atom of matter, so is the 
infinite God revealed in His union with single spirits, 
that every one may exhibit His grace and receive His 
friendship. 

Not only so ; with Enoch this fellowship was not, 
as so often with others, an occasional thing, but 
the daily habit of his life. He walked with God, as 
though in the ordinar}/ duties of life his unseen 
friend went with him ; as though with each step 
of his pilgrimage his guide accompanied and coun- 
selled him. Many men, perhaps all, have seasons of 
special devotion, — know what it is occasionally to com- 
mune with God. Perhaps they prepare for these times, 
or perhaps they come like flashes of joyful revelation to 
the soul. But they are hallowed moments, to which, 
when gone, they look back with gratitude, and for 



224 



FAITH AND LIFE 



whose return they long. All this is well, — is, I sup- 
pose, inevitable, but there is danger here. Men are 
apt to limit to such times the possibility of communion. 
They identify their power with these seasons. The 
rest of life becomes almost irreligious by contrast. 
Religion becomes a thing of spasms, a periodic matter, 
the summer heat of love followed by the wintry blasts 
of forgetfulness and worldhness. They may be in the 
Spirit on the Lord's day, and then think it proper on 
week days to be altogether in the flesh. 

There is an old legend, which Whittier has versified, 
intended to teach the peril of overvaluing these seasons 
of special illumination. It tells of a saint, praying in 
his cell, to whom a vision of the Lord appeared. But 
while the disciple gazed in rapture on the blessed face 
of Christ, he heard the bell of the monastery, calling 
him to go forth, as was his custom, to feed at the 
gate the poor and hungry, who came there at the 
hour of noon. How strong the temptation to stay and 
enjoy the vision ! But the good monk obeyed the 
call of duty, left his place of privilege, performed his 
task, and then returned to think of the vision he had 
seen, when lo ! he found it waiting for him. " Hadst 
thou remained," said the Christ, " I must have gone ; 
because thou didst go, I have remained." 

Very truly may we learn from this that the life of 
true fellowship with God is not to be found in mere 
contemplation, but in the daily walks of life. Yea, the 



ENOCH 



225 



vision will not only tarry for us, it will go with us. 
Enoch gave us the true idea. It is, not to stand or 
kneel with God merely, but to walk with Him. We 
may have God's presence in our shops and offices as 
well as in the church; as we walk the streets we 
may hear the noiseless step of the unseen Guide ; in 
the doing of daily work, even in our times of recre- 
ation, God may be with us and we may walk with 
God. I do not mean that daily life is to be an ecstasy. 
We need not be always conversing with our Friend. 
We are to do our work and take our play. But we 
are always to feel Him near, so that when we have 
aught to say, we may say it ; when we need aught, we 
may ask for it; when we desire, we may converse 
with Him. This would be to carry heaven in our 
hearts. Sin would not then easily assail us. Our 
hidden foes would fly from that divine form. We 
should realize in full force what it is to be reconciled 
with God, — how deep, how real a meaning Christ's 
promise had. In short, we should walk with Him, 
and our steps, however many, would be always tend- 
ing toward the place where God will give us rest. 

Such, then, was the exceptional type of character 
manifested by this ancient man of God, and I would 
like to point out to you the light which other passages 
of Scripture throw upon the question of how such a 
life may be attained. 

The first condition of thus dwelling with God is 

15 



226 



FAITH AND LIFE 



humility. This is brought out by the prophet Micah 
when he says, What doth the Lord require of 
thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to 
walk humbly with thy God?" or, as it should be 
rendered, *' to humble thyself to walk with God." 
Think of it! Humble thyself to walk with God! 
How strange! He might deem it a humbHng thing 
to walk with us. He who is infinite, almighty, 
supreme, with us who are weak, sinful, rebellious. 
But for us to humble ourselves to walk with Him ! Is 
not such fellowship our greatest honor ? Are we not 
permitted by it to enter into a communion in which 
angels themselves rejoice ? How can it be true that 
humility is its condition ? Alas, experience testifies 
that this is only too sadly true. The heart of man has 
been caught by the false show of earthly splendor : his 
tastes perverted, his poor soul made to aspire to 
imaginary goods. He is proud too of his strength 
and independence, so that in his judgment it is a 
humbling thing to walk with God ! 

Has it not ever been so ? Did not Christ say, " Ye 
shall be hated of all men for my name's sake " ? Did 
not Paul say, God hath chosen the weak things of the 
world, . . . and things which are despised " ? Do we not 
read that He makes His abode in the hearts of the lowly 
and the contrite ? It has, indeed, ever been found so. 
You cannot reach this lofty height of spiritual fellow- 
ship, — this life when you may enter the company of 



1 



ENOCH 



227 



prophets and apostles, — save by renouncing your own 
works, by confessing your own sins, by feeling, in fine, 
your own great need of divine help. The way to the 
kingdom always leads through a strait gate; and he 
who knows the power and glory of his religion, he 
who would have the peace which the world can 
neither give nor take away, is he who seeks God not 
in the spirit of the Pharisee, but in that of the publican, 
and who has the humble heart and the mind that is 
self-abased. 

Then to this we should add that other verse, " Can 
two walk together, except they be agreed?" The 
prophet Malachi describes the holy life of one of the 
patriarchs in these words, " He walked with me in 
peace and equity." It is impossible to maintain the 
spiritual life of which we are speaking if the heart be 
set on those things with which God can have no sym- 
pathy. How long do earthly friendships last when 
you become interested in objects in which your friend 
has no interest? Gradually you drift apart. There 
may be no open rupture, but the tide of sympathies 
sweeps you away. Friendship must have some basis, 
some connecting link. It is the union of souls. 
Merely to live next to a man does not make him 
your friend. If you and he have no thoughts, no pur- 
suits, no objects in common, your friendship will not 
last, and is probably not worth maintaining. 

This may illustrate our life with God. No man can 



228 



FAITH AND LIFE 



walk with God if his heart be bent upon the world. 
The thoughts of God find no response within his mind 
if the plans and the cause of God are of less value to 
him than his own selfish plans and pleasures. It is vain 
for that man to sigh after a spiritual life. It is vain for 
him to perform outward acts of religion. His fellow- 
ship with God is a pretense. Not unless you and 
your Redeemer have something in common can you 
walk with Him. Not unless you feel in sympathy 
with His mind may you suppose Him to be in sym- 
pathy with yours. In short, only those who are 
willing to humble themselves and become as little 
children can enter into the society of Him who is 
meek and lowly, holy and pure. When you consider 
the glory of such a life as Enoch's, and the means by 
which it may be attained, do you not see what Jesus 
meant when he said, "Whosoever exalteth himself 
shall be abased; and he that humbleth himself shall 
be exalted " ? Happy are they who have learned the 
lesson of real humility, and in whose minds has been 
kindled enthusiasm for the cause of God. They shall 
walk in the light of His countenance. AHke amid 
the press of daily duties and in the sweeter hours of 
worship and meditation, they shall know the ineffable 
joy and peace of walking with God. 

Let me turn your thoughts now for a moment 
to Enoch's translation. The simple record in Genesis 
is, " He was not ; for God took him." This of itself 



ENOCH 



229 



does not necessarily mean that he did not die. We are 
assured of its real meaning, however, by the writer of 
the Epistle to the Hebrews, who tells us that " By faith 
Enoch was translated that he should not see death ; 
and was not found, because God had translated 
him : for before his translation he had this testimony, 
that he pleased God." Such, too, we might infer from 
Genesis, since Enoch is the only one in its Hst of 
patriarchs of whom it is not distinctly said that he 
died. The unusual phrase, God took him," points to 
some unusual way of exit from the world. But in its 
simplicity this account is very suggestive. One other 
man in the Bible is said to have been translated, but 
how very different the ends of Elijah and Enoch ! The 
stern prophet of Gilead, — who had been as a fiery blast 
to his country, whose prayers had scorched the fields 
for three years, and who had brought down fire from 
heaven on the priests of Baal, — naturally passed heaven- 
ward in a chariot of fire. The whole character of 
Elijah was so rugged and fierce, that no gentle exit 
would have suited his story. He had been God's 
thunderbolt, hurled against the guilty house of Ahab, 
and so in a whirlwind he ascended to God who had 
inspired his tongue. But of Enoch we are simply told 
that he disappeared. Apparently, no one saw his 
departure. The imphcation of the language of Script- 
ure is that men sought for him, but he had gone. 
God quietly took him to Himself As he had long 



230 



FAITH AND LIFE 



walked with God, so God, by some unusual way, one 
day called him home. 

Now what meant the translation of these two 
prophets ? Why did God in their cases depart from 
His usual ways and deem the common portal insuf- 
ficient? We cannot say fully, but we may see cer- 
tain consequences which followed from it, and which 
may partly explain His reasons. Thus in the case 
of Elijah, his translation was the means of showing 
evidently the continuance of his work in that of Elisha. 
On the latter prophet Elijah's mantle fell. The two 
men did one work. They can be understood only 
when viewed together. Elijah destroyed, that Elisha 
might construct; Elijah laid the foundation, that Elisha 
might build upon it. Elijah's work was unfinished, 
and hence the expectation that he would come again 
before the Messiah. His translation at least exhibited 
the unity between him and his successor. Not even 
death divided them. The same is still more strongly 
brought out by the ascension of Christ, which also may 
be called a translation ; for Christ ascended that we 
might feel Him still to be living and working ; feel that 
the Church is still under His care ; that, as Luke says, 
on earth He began His work and is now finishing it in 
heaven. It is thus that we look also at the disappear- 
ance of Enoch. Whether for the sake of others or for 
his own, the impression made is that the patriarch's 
pure and godly life was continued; it went right on; it 



1 



ENOCH 



231 



was not broken even by death. God wishes us to 
perceive that one who hves in fellowship with Himself 
is already ripe for the close fellowship of heaven. 
There is no break in the journey. Such a life on 
this and that side of the grave is the same. On that 
side it needs only to be perfected and confirmed. But 
it is the same life, — life with God. 

Thus, then, the translation of Enoch reveals to us 
what is true of many, who are not translated. God, by 
this exceptional departure of this exceptional man, 
has shown us distinctly what ought to be true of all. 
Enoch stands forth as the proof that a truly Christian 
life destroys death. The sting of death is sin, but for 
the Christian, sin has been forgiven. The strength of 
sin is the law, but for the Christian, the law has been 
obeyed and satisfied. Death, therefore, is for him not 
what it once was. It is not punishment. It is but the 
departure to God. Of multitudes may we say as truly 
as of Enoch, " They were not, for God took them," — 
since, death being thus transformed, it matters not 
whether it come or not. We shall not all die, but, like 
Enoch and Elijah, we shall all be changed. That is 
the meaning of death to the Christian. God takes His 
servant to Himself, — away from temptation, and perse- 
cution, and trial, — to perfect rest, perfect bliss, perfect 
purity. It was not the absence of death in Enoch's 
case which is the principal point, so much as the con- 
quest of death by faith in God. 



232 



FAITH AND LIFE 



Have you never seen nor heard of dying men of 
whom all that is here said of the patriarch could 
be truly said? Paul died at the block; but he 
had already said that it was better to depart and be 
with Christ." " I am now ready to be offered, and 
the time of my departure is at hand." " One of the 
Scottish martyrs, standing on a ladder from which 
they were to throw him off, assured the weeping spec- 
tators that he had never gone up to his pulpit with 
so little fear as he had mounted that ladder to die. To 
him it was a perch from which his spirit, wearied of 
a world full of sin and sorrows, was spreading out its 
joyful wings for the flight to heaven." Nay, speak 
not of apostles and martyrs. The same triumph has 
been enjoyed by thousands of ransomed souls. Men, 
women, and children have passed through the valley 
without a murmur, or, if the passage were hard and 
painful, still with the light of heaven gleaming in their 
dying eyes, and the soul translated while the body fell 
to dust. How is this ? Because in this life they had 
found God ; because here they had learned somewhat 
of how to walk with Him, tremblingly, lamely, perhaps, 
but still humbly, and relying not on their own merits, 
but on His grace. 

They have been translated, I say. They have not 
seen death, as death really is. They are not, for 
God has taken them. That is all. We, standing 
on the hither verge of the grave, have sought to 



ENOCH 



233 



heal their pains, to cheer their spirits, to revive their 
strength, and it may be that when we can no longer 
find them we are bowed with grief, the bitter tears flow 
fast ; we wonder where they are, we think, and guess, 
and ponder, while the heart grows heavier with its 
load. But to them, — ah, to them, — what is death ? 
The struggling life has found full expression now. 
Faith has become sight. The love that once was often 
interrupted, flows forth impassioned now. They are 
with God. Still, they walk with God. Their Christian 
life has reached its goal, and the pain of the exit from 
earth has already been forgotten in the joy of the 
entrance into heaven. They are not — for God has 
taken them ! What more can we say ? What more 
can we want? Be our deaths how and when they 
may, is it not enough to know that with faith in 
Christ our Saviour, there is no sting, there is no 
darkness, there is only in store for us God's " Wel- 
come home " ? 



i 



XIII 



THE WISE WOMAN OF TEKOAH 

" For we must needs die, and are as water spilt on the ground, which 
cannot be gathered up again ; neither doth God respect any person [or 
and God doth not cast away a soul] : yet [but] doth He devise means, 
that His banished be not expelled from Him." — 2 Samuel xiv. 14. 

These words were spoken by a woman arrayed in 
deep mourning, and they were directed to King David. 
The speaker is called a wise woman. She is known 
now as the wise woman of Tekoah. Whether that 
means that she professed to be a magician, or simply 
that she had clever wit, is hard to say. It is not 
unlikely that she traded on her reputation for wisdom ; 
was a sort of fortune-teller, perhaps ; and hence had 
acquired influence in the neighborhood. It may be, 
however, that she was simply a cunning and shrewd 
person, and so naturally fitted for the task through 
which we have made her acquaintance. She was 
before the king at Joab's bidding; and though on her 
were the signs of mourning, the real grief was in 
David's own heart. 

David's favorite son, Absalom, was a fugitive for the 
murder of his brother; and David mourned in his 
palace both the absence of his heir and the wretched 
circumstances which had stained the record of his 

235 



236 



FAITH AND LIFE 



family. Passion and murder had produced other 
passion and other murder in the royal household; 
and the young man Absalom, the king's heir and 
favorite, the idol of the court and of the people, had 
fled to a foreign city, a fratricide. David, meanwhile, 
was beset by conflicting feelings. His son was an 
outlaw; the avengers of blood ought to be on the 
track of the murderer ; it might do great harm to 
the estabHshed order for Absalom to be forgiven. 
Yet, in spite of these considerations, the king mourned 
for Absalom. He longed to have his favorite back 
again. He was ready in his heart to excuse the young 
man's sin, but felt it to be his duty sternly to condemn 
that sin. So he was unhappy, as well he might be ; 
and it was known to all the court how the monarch 
grieved over the banishment of his child. 

At this juncture the brave but unscrupulous officer, 
Joab, determined to persuade the king to gratify his 
own incHnations. For this purpose he obtained the 
service of the wise woman from Tekoah, and we are 
shown in her interview with David the way in which 
she overcame his scruples and induced him to allow 
Absalom to return. She was well called a wise woman : 
for she led the king, before he was aware, to commit 
himself to the principle on which she wished him to 
act, and then she delicately applied the principle to his 
own case. She came as a suppliant, attired as a widow, 
and told a pitiable tale of her own misery. She said 



THE WISE WOMAN OF TEKOAH 23/ 

she had had two sons, and that one of these, in a 
moment of anger, had slain his brother; and now the 
avengers of blood were on the murderer's track, and 
she would be deprived of her sole remaining child, and 
her husband's name and family would be blotted out 
of Israel forever. Let the king, she cried, make an ex- 
ception in her case. Let the angry deed be forgotten, 
now that the anger was past. Let not her life be made 
more desolate by the punishment of her other, though 
guilty, son. 

The king must have been startled by this request to 
do for another what he did not feel at liberty to do for 
himself. Perhaps he was glad to be able to indulge 
his mercy where no charge of favoritism could be 
brought against him. The pathetic plea of this woman 
made him feel also that there are times when mercy 
has a better claim than justice; and in another's case 
he could see this more clearly than in his own. We 
can always judge others better than we can ourselves. 
Let our circumstances be stated in the abstract, or in 
connection with some other name, and we can often 
more fairly estimate them than when we try to do 
so knowing them to be our own. David's sense of 
justice made him sternly put aside the thought of 
forgiving Absalom ; but he readily granted to this sup- 
posed widow the boon she craved. *'As the Lord 
liveth," he said, " there shall not one hair of thy son 
fall to the earth." 



238 



FAITH AND LIFE 



Now " the wise woman " proceeded to insinuate her 
main point into David's mind. We can see that she 
advanced slowly, feeling her way as she went ; and with 
the appearance, at least, of much hesitation, only 
suggesting the matter to the king. She had two 
arguments to bring forward. On the one hand, why 
will not the king do as much for his own banished son 
as for hers? Was not Absalom the heir? Was he 
not the favorite of the people as well as of the king ? 
Had he not been led to his crime by great provocation? 
If mercy seemed right to David in the case of her poor 
child, why should he be afraid to exercise it in the case 
of his own noble and best-loved son ? Then, on the 
other hand, the wise woman clinched her argument 
by pointing David to the still better example of divine 
mercy. This, said she, is what God does. He knows 
that we all have in this life our only chance of recovery 
and salvation. Behold, we are all hastening to the 
grave, — we must needs die, — and then it is over with 
us ; we shall be as water spilt on the ground, which 
cannot be gathered up again. But does God let us 
thus perish? Does He steel His heart against His 
guilty children ? Does He care not whether we are 
lost to Him or not ? By no means, O king. God has 
devised means whereby His banished may not be ex- 
pelled. He has pointed out a way of pardon ; mercy 
and justice have been reconciled, and the law has not 
been dishonored, though the law-breakers have been 



THE WISE WOMAN OF TEKOAH 239 

received back. " God . . . deviseth means, that he 
that is banished be not an outcast from Him." 

It is nothing to us whether or not the wise 
woman of Tekoah was right in persuading David to 
restore Absalom. The incident remains no less an 
example of the triumph of mercy over justice, and of 
love over law ; and, in the words by which she set 
forth the character of God and the fleeting chances of 
life, she speaks wisely to us as well as to King David. 
She comes as a shrewd observer; points us, in very 
graphic language, to a very true view of ourselves and 
of God ; and while we may not have any such per- 
plexing problem to solve as David had, we may need 
to have our common thoughts and habits brought 
into fresh contrast with the ways of the Most High. 

There are two thoughts expressed in the text. 
The one is, that this life is man's only opportunity of 
receiving forgiveness : the other, that God has seized 
this opportunity and has devised means by which for- 
giveness may be secured. 

In what a vigorous, yet pathetic, way did this 
wise woman of Tekoah set forth the " now or 
never " doctrine of life ! " We must needs die, and are 
as water spilt on the ground, which cannot be gath- 
ered up again." Some think she meant to say that 
Amnon, whom Absalom slew, is now dead, and so he 
might as well be dismissed from thought. He had to 
die, anyhow; and since he cannot be restored, why 



240 



FAITH AND LIFE 



should we cherish resentment against the still living 
Absalom ? But such a grim, immoral fatalism would 
scarcely have weighed much with King David. He 
was not the man to admit that there need be no re- 
pentance for the past, or that sin, once accomplished, 
need not be punished. It is evident, on the contrary, 
that the wise woman's words referred solely to Absa- 
lom. She meant to say that life is the only chance 
of forgiveness. Death was before them all ; and who 
could say how soon it might come? And when it 
did come, then all hope of reconciliation between 
father and child, all hope of Absalom's repentance, 
all hope of amendment, would be gone forever. We 
are as water spilt on the ground, which cannot be 
gathered up. Life has been given man for his salva- 
tion ; death seals his glor}^ or his doom. 

Perhaps it may appear to some that this language 
goes even further, and implies a disbelief in any immor- 
tahty at all. Were we to take the words alone and 
literally, this might be the case. The materialist would 
ask no more satisfactory illustration of what death is 
than this of water spilt upon the ground. Life, he 
would say, is but the bringing into organic connection 
of a certain number of particles of matter; and death 
is the parting and scattering of them. Death, he 
would say, literally ends all. The conscious life, like 
spilt water, cannot be regained. But we have no right 
to press thus the literal force of the wise woman's 



THE WISE WOMAN OF TEKOAH 24 1 

figure, any more than to say that James did not be- 
lieve in immortahty when he Hkened Hfe to a "vapor, 
that appeareth for a Httle time and then vanisheth 
away." Her language is to be understood only with 
reference to the opportunities and moral possibilities 
of life itself 

The thought which she uttered is one which especi- 
ally abounds in the Old Testament, — that this life 
alone belongs to man to win his way, and do his 
work, and earn his reward. It is, for example, the 
thought of Job when he exclaimed: "The eye of 
him that hath seen me shall see me no more. . . . 
As the cloud is consumed and vanisheth away : so he 
that goeth down to the grave shall come up no 
more " ; or that of the Psalmist when he wrote : " Wilt 
Thou show wonders to the dead? Shall the dead 
arise and praise Thee ? Shall Thy wonders be known 
in the dark ? and Thy righteousness in the land of 
forgetfulness ? " ; or that which the writer of Bcclesi- 
astes still more vigorously proclaimed : " Whatsoever 
thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might; for 
there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor 
wisdom, in the grave, whither thou goest." In short, 
life is man's only opportunity. In it alone can we help 
each other ; in it alone can we be reconciled to each 
other. In it alone, likewise, can we obtain the for- 
giveness of God. Surely no words, if this view of them 
be correct, could more forcibly express the idea than 

16 



242 FAITH AND LIFE 

these words of the text : " We . . . are as water spilt 
on the ground, which cannot be gathered up again." 

Beyond doubt, the wise woman was right in 
saying that this is our only opportunity to bless, to 
win, to save our fellow-men. This was what she 
wished especially to impress on David's mind. He 
ought not to regard Absalom as already dead. Life 
is given for purposes of love and benefaction, not to 
be made, by stern anger, like to the grave. And in 
this respect she is clearly a good adviser to us all. 
What should impel us more to every kind of loving 
deed, what should impel us more to every effort for 
men's elevation and salvation, than the thought that 
soon they will be beyond our reach? We at least 
shall have lost our opportunity to help them. Their 
death will take them out of the range of our influence. 
While they live we may help them, but our arms 
cannot extend beyond the grave. 

It is strange how often we forget this. One would 
almost think that a vague belief in purgatory lies 
latent in our minds, so often do we neglect men while 
they are alive and wish them well after they are dead. 
Commonly, this is due to either pride or carelessness. 
In fact, just as to the Hebrews, so to us this earth 
is intensely real and enjoyable. We want to make 
the most of it for ourselves while it lasts. So we are 
immersed in our own welfare and pursuits ; we pass 
the needs of others by; we say too often, in effect. 



I 



THE WISE WOMAN OF TEKOAH 243 

" Wait till this fair scene has passed and we have had 
our joy and profit out of life, and then hereafter, — if 
there be one, — we will take up rehgion and benevo- 
lence." But, surely, this is trusting to a mere hope. 
It is well enough to have kind thoughts of the dead, 
even though in life they have been our enemies ; but 
what does it profit them ? The saddest of all thoughts 
is that of lost opportunities. There was one to whom 
I might have been more kind, whose heart I might 
have brightened, but, alas ! now he is dead. There 
was one whom I might have turned to a pure and 
noble career ; another, whose forgiveness I longed 
to ask; another, whom I ought to have forgiven; 
another still, to whom I might have carried the word 
of eternal life ; but, alas ! now they are all dead. I at 
least cannot help them now. Oh, if men would but 
think of this, how much gentler they would be in their 
judgments ! how much quicker to forgive ! and with 
how much more devotion would we not all strive to 
do without delay our share in the work of the world's 
salvation ! 

Can we carry the thought of the text farther, and 
say that as life offers the only opportunity men have 
to receive our aid and forgiveness, so it affords the 
only chance they have of receiving the forgiveness of 
God? If so, then the urgency of our duty is re- 
doubled, and life is filled with responsibility otherwise 
unknown. I feel sure that this is so. When we remem- 



244 



FAITH AND LIFE 



ber the passages of Scripture already cited, in which 
the hopelessness of the grave is set in such marked 
contrast to the possibilities of life, we are prepared 
to hear the clearer words of the New Testament, 
" Now is the accepted time ; now is the day of 
salvation." To this we add, " It is appointed unto 
men once to die; but after this the judgment." To 
that again we add the frequent descriptions of the 
judgment as based upon the deeds done "in the 
body." Even those who have not known Christ are 
represented by Him as accepted or rejected according 
as they have or have not acted well " unto one of 
the least of these my brethren." There is nowhere 
any hint that the judgment will go upon any other 
basis than the present life of man. Christ sent His 
disciples into the world, proclaiming forgiveness to 
every one that believes, and condemnation to all that 
refuse ; and it would seem to follow that here is the 
place, and now is the time, in which mercy may be had. 

You will refer me, perhaps, to those two much dis- 
cussed texts in the First Epistle of Peter, which are 
thought by many to prove the contrary doctrine. 
The one reads, " For this cause was the Gospel 
preached even to the dead, that they might be judged 
according to men in the flesh, but live according 
to God in the spirit." The other relates that Christ 
in the Spirit preached to spirits in prison, that 
is, as the Apostle immediately explains, to the men 



THE WISE WOMAN OF TEKOAH 245 

of old who were destroyed in the deluge. It is 
admitted, of course, that these passages are diffi- 
cult to interpret. I can only express my honest 
opinion, reached in spite of much prejudice in favor 
of the other view. This is, that they do not teach the 
theory now so often drawn from them. When Peter 
said that "the Gospel was preached to the dead," he 
meant, I think, the dead saints and martyrs to whom 
the Gospel had come in their lifetime, but whom it 
had not saved from the pains of persecution and suf- 
fering. Some of his readers feared that these men 
had lost their reward ; that they would not share in 
the coming kingdom. This was a common fear in 
those days. Paul exhorted the Thessalonians not to 
sorrow over their dead as those without hope, for the 
dead in Christ should at His coming rise first. So 
Peter assured his readers that the dead, though they 
had fallen under the fiery judgment of men, would 
live according to God in the spirit. As for the other 
passage, there is much to show that Peter meant 
simply that Christ by His Spirit had preached through 
Noah to the antediluvians ; just as he says in another 
place that the Spirit of Christ testified in the prophets. 

It remains certain, at least, that in the only two texts 
which can be quoted in favor of a probation after 
death, as much may be said against that interpretation 
as for it. It remains certain, moreover, that a dozen 
or score of other passages, about the meaning of which 



246 



FAITH AND LIFE 



there can be little doubt, bear directly against that 
theory. Finally, it is certain that these two texts, — 
even if they taught that Christ preached to the dead,— 
would teach that He did so between His death and 
His resurrection ; and leave it still undetermined 
whether such preaching has ever been or is ever to be 
repeated. The Scriptural ground for expecting an 
opportunity for repentance after death, therefore, rests 
upon a doubtful inference from a doubtful interpreta- 
tion of two difficult passages of the Bible. I submit 
that this cannot begin to outweigh the earnest appeal 
made throughout the Scriptures for repentance now 
in order to forgiveness. 

We have little zeal indeed for the mere matter of 
fact. If it should turn out that any who have not re- 
ceived forgiveness here receive it in the other world, 
we should thank God a thousand times. But to trust 
to such an unlikely possibility is to drop over a preci- 
pice, upheld only by a single doubtful cord. It is to 
throw away certainty for the least possibility. Un- 
doubtedly the great volume of Scripture teaching flows 
the other way. Our text is its fair representative. 
Death ends the day of forgiveness. We are as water 
spilt on the ground, which cannot be gathered up again. 
Life is man's great and only chance. We can but 
repeat, over and over again, in the ear of careless 
men : Now is the accepted time. Ah, heed this 
wise woman of Tekoah. Stop hoping in vague and 



THE WISE WOMAN OF TEKOAH 



247 



unprofitable theories, and seize the certain duty which 
the present moment brings. Make hfe your op- 
portunity. Do all your duty to your fellow-men 
now, ere death takes them from your reach ! Take 
God's forgiveness now, while the golden chance is 
yours ! 

This leads us to the other truth expressed in the 
text. This is, that God has seized this opportunity of 
man's earthly life, and has devised m.eans whereby man 
may be forgiven. The second half of the text should 
be translated : " God does not cast away a soul, but 
thinks thoughts in order that His outcast one may not 
be expelled from Him." The speaker clinched her 
appeal to David by reminding him of the mercy of 
God ; and there was such a likeness between David's 
relation to Absalom and God's relation to David him- 
self, that her appeal must have had much force. For 
God has His rebellious and disobedient sons. David 
himself had sorely needed the divine mercy. God's 
favorite child, so to speak, — the man after his heart, — 
had been guilty of the same crime as Absalom ; and 
the king, grieving in loneliness over the sin of his 
favorite child, must have realized, as he never did 
before, how God felt toward him who was no less a 
sinner. 

The likeness went further still. As the king felt 
that, however much he might wish to do so, he 
could not, for the sake of his kingdom and his own 



248 



FAITH AND LIFE 



authority, pardon the royal criminal; so hkewise did he 
know that the law of God, just as sternly and more 
unchangeably, banished every sinner from the divine 
presence. Thus we are brought to face again the great 
problem of all time, — how shall the Father's love grant 
forgiveness to the son consistently with the Father's 
own authority ? How shall the divine law, the law of 
the universal kingdom, be upheld while grace finds its 
way to the guilty ? You see the same problem pre- 
sented itself to David which is ever presenting itself 
to God, just as in David were united the two rela- 
tions of father and king, which are united in God also, 
who is both our Father and our King. But what 
has God done in the circumstances ? Has He thrown 
His government to the winds in order that His love 
may have its will ? Or has He stifled His affection in 
order that His government may be respected ? No, 
He has done neither. The wise woman put the truth 
in just the right way. He has " devised means " 
whereby both ends may be secured, and His banished 
not be expelled from Him forever. 

There are some persons to whom the idea of a 
plan or scheme of salvation is repugnant. They think 
it a crude, human way of stating the truth. It seems 
to them impossible that God should seem to be com- 
pelled to resort to any device in order to save men. 
Why cannot He both grant pardon and uphold His 
authority without any such scheme ? Is He, they ask, 



THE WISE WOMAN OF TEKOAH 249 

a man, that He should be forced apparently to circum- 
vent his own law in order to do His will ? 

In reply it may be said that we cannot safely criti- 
cise facts, and that it is far more reasonable to sup- 
pose that the fact has a sufficient reason than to deny 
the fact because we cannot understand that reason. 
The wise woman of Tekoah used this language be- 
cause she and the king had all around them examples 
of such devices. What else was that altar which 
smoked before the tabernacle on Mount Zion ; what 
else meant the law respecting leprosy and the cleans- 
ing which they had received from Moses ; what else 
were those cities of refuge, where the blood-avengers 
could not enter, than devices illustrative of the govern- 
ment of God ? These old Hebrews knew enough from 
their own religious system, which was itself an im- 
mense scheme, to make them realize that though 
they, hke the rest of the world, were under the ban of 
God by nature. He had devised means by which they 
and others also might return to Him. 

In like manner must we look upon the facts and the 
teachings of the New Testament. The mission and 
the death of Jesus are there called a mystery which 
was hid in God from the beginning. We are told that 
" in the fullness of time God sent forth His Son, . . . 
to redeem them that were under the law." What was 
that if not a scheme, long delayed, but at the right 
moment put into execution ? We are told that " He 



250 



FAITH AND LIFE 



hath made Him to be sin for us who knew no sin ; 
that we might be made the righteousness of God in 
Him." What was that but a plan, involving the sub- 
stitution of one for another? Finally, we read that 
God sent forth Christ in order "that He might be just, 
and the justifier of him which believeth in Jesus." 
Here is certainly a device not to circumvent law, but 
to honor it, while at the same time forgiveness is pro- 
vided for men. 

Indeed, on any view of Jesus which at all admits 
Him to have been a divine messenger, we must sup- 
pose a plan or scheme in the mind of Him who 
sent Him; a plan, for example, that the world 
should wait so many years before Christ came; a 
plan that His coming should be prepared for among 
the Jews ; a plan that by His death He should at 
least teach men the way of hohness. We go only 
a step further and say it was also a plan by which 
justice could be satisfied and atonement made. It is 
just like what God is ever doing in man's history. 
He does not bring about His ends at once, but slowly 
and painfully : by devices ; by the use of means ; by 
the slow unfolding and victory of His eternal purpose. 
God has a plan, or else the world would not be gov- 
erned. He has a law, or else the world's order would 
not be upheld. So in the gift of Christ, of course, 
He had a plan, and has devised means whereby this 
race, banished by its sin, may be forgiven. 



\ 



THE WISE WOMAN OF TEKOAH 25 1 

And what a device it is ! We learn it at the 
cross. That sufferer was the Son of God. He laid 
His life down as a ransom; and from His death 
there come to us two words, — righteousness and 
love. The righteousness of God, — upheld, satisfied, 
— provided now for us all ; the love of God, utter- 
ing from above that bleeding form, Come, for all 
things are now ready. Go out, then, to the Absaloms, 
— the guilty fugitives from heaven, — and tell them the 
good news that they need not be exiles any more ! 
To that Absalom, who has stained his soul with vice 
and crime, carry the offer of forgiveness. He is 
feeding swine, it may be ; but tell him he may come 
home. He is worse than a pubHcan, perhaps ; but let 
Him confess, and he may be justified. Carry the 
message to the sinful everywhere, — to the degraded 
and the desperate, as well as to the poHshed crimi- 
nal, or the man whose heart is hard with avarice. 
Go whisper it in the ears of the timid and the doubt- 
ing ; let it ring in the market-place ; proclaim it from 
the house-top; tell it to your friends, and take it for 
your own hope. Absalom is not lost. Absalom need 
not be an exile. Absalom can come home now, 
while his life is strong, ere the water is spilt upon the 
ground ; for God has devised means whereby he may 
justly be forgiven ! 

Are there no Absaloms here ? Are there none who 
feel themselves sinners, — banished from their Father 



252 



FAITH AND LIFE 



and King ? Are there none who want to return home 
and seek their Father's face ? I bring you His mes- 
sage, — Come. He has hot given His Son to die with- 
out meaning what He says. He is in earnest, and you 
may take your place among His children. You may 
make life what it ought to be, — the road to heaven. 
Repent, and you shall be forgiven. Ask, and you shall 
receive. Knock, and it shall be opened unto you. 
No one need be lost ; for now, while the opportunity 
is here, God has devised the means of your salvation. 
" Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as 
white as snow." 



XIV 



JOHN THE BAPTIST 

" I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness, Make straight 
the way of the Lord, as said the prophet Esaias," — John i. 23. 
*' He must increase, but I must decrease." — John iii. 30. 

Both these expressions fell from the lips of John 
the Baptist : the first, when " the Jews sent priests and 
Levites from Jerusalem to ask him, Who art thou ? " ; 
the second, when certain of the Jews, led perhaps by 
his own disciples who were jealous of his honor, re- 
ported to him the growing popularity of Jesus and 
the prospect that he might be outshone by the 
new hght whose rising he himself had announced. 
His words on both occasions give evidence of one of 
the most beautiful traits of character which any man 
can have. They show the entire absence in John of 
what in a popular way we may call self-conscious- 
ness ; he lost himself in his work and in his Master. 
They show, as, indeed, his whole history does, that 
he thought not of his own reputation or fate, cared 
nothing for applause and was indifferent to danger ; 
that he forgot himself, or else, with consummate grace, 
put himself entirely in the background in even his 
own thoughts, in order that nothing but the divine 

253 



254 



FAITH AND LIFE 



message and the divine Messenger might be con- 
sidered. 

It is rather remarkable that this grace should 
appear so conspicuously in John the Baptist. He 
was a somewhat fierce reformer. His appearance was 
peculiar, and his personality attracted universal atten- 
tion. He stood also single handed in the battle 
with traditional sin and established error. His posi- 
tion required great energy and courage, undoubting 
faith in his own call from God, iron-like power of 
endurance. Such a position is apt to make some 
men egotistical even when sincere. They readily 
become self-asserting. The very solitude of their po- 
sition tends to make them self-conscious. But John 
was so great a man as to be above this tempta- 
tion. He realized clearly that he was but an instru- 
ment in God's hand to do a special and temporary 
work. Into that work he threw himself with the zeal 
of a devotee. Therefore, he lost all thought of him- 
self in thought of his work and office. Who he might 
be was a matter of absolutely no consequence to friend 
or foe. He was the voice of God. That was enough. 
That was all. And when his mission began to close, 
with sincere, indeed almost unconscious humility, he 
gloried in his lessening fame. Had he not spoken in 
order to introduce the Messiah? Should he then 
regret that the Messiah caused him to be forgotten? 
He was but the Bridegroom's friend, who stands and 



JOHN THE BAPTIST 



hears Him, and rejoices greatly because of the Bride- 
groom's voice. Intense as was his nature, strong as 
was his courage, impressive as was his personaHty, 
John the Baptist appears most admirable and was 
most successful because of the complete self-forget- 
fulness with which he did his glorious task. 

Such an example is fitted to teach us an important 
lesson. We are naturally prone to an exaggerated 
self-consciousness, even when we have the least 
reason for it; and sometimes our very efforts to do 
what we consider right unhappily increase this natural 
tendency. We are apt to spend our moral energy, 
for instance, in trying to force good feelings and 
strong religious emotions, instead of allowing these 
to regulate themselves ; and, in consequence, we be- 
come painfully and morbidly absorbed in self-inspec- 
tion. Or we seek to solve the mystery of life and 
to overcome incessantly suggested doubt until exist- 
ence becomes little more than an intellectual riddle, 
with the difficulty of which we are oppressed, and by 
the incubus of which our practical usefulness is palsied. 
Or, again, we may waste time in analyzing our Christian 
experience in order to learn surely whether we are be- 
lievers, and whether we are growing in grace ; and by 
so doing are either cast into despair or exalted by 
pride. Of course, self-examination is not to be 
neglected, but it may be abused. A thoroughly 
healthy life is largely unconscious of its processes. It 



256 



FAITH AND LIFE 



is the sick man who realizes that he has a body. The 
perfectly well man gives it little thought. So in the 
moral and religious sphere, the best work is done in 
self-forgetfulness. The best progress in grace is made 
by those who are so absorbed in doing the duties com- 
manded them that they think little about the effect 
upon themselves. The finest life is that which forgets 
its own needs in the joys of service; and while no man 
should fail at times to search his own heart, every 
man will be and do better by being absorbed in what 
is greater than himself than by being busied with the 
diagnosis of the state of his own soul. 

Now I wish, at this time, to take the example of 
John the Baptist, as given us by these two expressions 
from his lips, and to show you how by beginning 
aright he grew unconsciously into the finest type of 
Christian manhood. He will suggest, I think, the 
line along which we all ought to advance. 

Observe first that John began by forgetting him- 
self in the work he had been sent to do and the cause 
whose champion he was. This was the spirit in which 
he began his ministry. For thirty years he had waited 
for the hour to come in which he was to lift his voice 
as a trumpet in Israel. He had lived as a Nazarite 
from his birth. He had dwelt in the desert. What 
thoughts had filled his mind we do not know. But we 
may suppose that thoughts of the speedy coming of 
the Messiah, the worldliness of the church, the degra- 



I 



JOHN THE BAPTIST 



257 



dation of the nation, burned within his soul. He went 
forth at last in the spirit and power of Elias, inspired 
for this very work, breaking on the guilty nation as 
the Tishbite of old on Ahab's court, the voice of one 
crying in the wilderness, " Prepare ye the way of 
the Lord." Out of what considerations did this ab- 
sorption of self in his work which characterized John 
spring ? 

It came first from his knowledge that he was im- 
mediately called of God to the work. Had he taken it 
up of his own accord, his self-forgetfulness could not 
have been so complete. He would have felt it neces- 
sary to justify his course. But working as he did in 
obedience to a divine call, he felt that he was simply 
an instrument in the Lord's hand. What was he, to 
rebuke the learning of the scribes, and the righteous- 
ness of the Pharisees ? Who was he, to antagonize 
the existing order and to assume the authority of a 
prophet ? What good could he expect single handed 
to accomplish ? But believing that he spoke a 
word which God had put into his mouth, he could 
utter it though none heard or though all heard. It 
would win its way because it was God's word. He 
would do his work because God was using him. It 
was, I apprehend, this knowledge that he was called 
by God to speak and act as he did, which, first of all, 
made John lose thought of self in the herculean 
task to which he was assigned. 
17 



258 



FAITH AND LIFE 



Moreover, he realized that the work was infinitely 
more important than he was. He was but one of a 
multitude, and God might have chosen any other man 
to do the work. It was of little consequence what his 
fate might be or what his opinions were. But the work 
for which he was sent was momentous, both to Israel 
and to all mankind. The hour of the world's great 
crisis had come. The axe was to be laid at the root of 
the trees. He for Whom Israel had sighed and prayed 
through many centuries was about to appear, and Israel 
was not ready to receive Him. The Lamb of God, 
who was to take away the sin of the world, was on 
His way to the place of sacrifice. As the man who 
struck the bell of American liberty is forgotten and 
was nothing, but the sound went forth into all the 
land, so he who struck the hour of redemption was 
nothing, but the announcement itself was all. Such a 
work was of incalculable importance to Israel and to 
humanity. Men must be made to hear. They must 
be brought to their knees in repentance. Who he 
was that roused them mattered nothing. What they 
might do to him was of no consequence. But the 
work of awakening must be done, be the cost what 
it might. 

Still, again, John realized that the time was short. 
Already the Messiah had been born. The time was ripe 
for His manifestation. The failure of Israel was sealed. 
The cry of the faithful few was despairing. Outside, 



JOHN THE BAPTIST 



259 



the world was ready. The tyrant was in power, pre- 
pared to slay. The world was learning from Israel as 
it had never learned before, and was come to share 
widely in Israel's hope. There was no time to be 
lost, no time to argue, no time to polish discourses, 
no time to think of danger, no time to think of self 
For, to crown all, John knew his own mission to be 
but a brief one. He was only to prepare for the Mes- 
siah. He was simply to open the gate for the King of 
Israel to enter. He was nothing but a herald. His 
work, therefore, could not last long. It would soon be 
over and be merged into the greater work of the 
Greater Master. 

It was out of such considerations as these no doubt 
that John's self-forgetfulness sprang. The crisis was 
imminent, and he became unconscious even of the 
exertion he made in meeting it. In the realization 
of such a situation, the mind is lifted up above 
its common tenor. When rescuing a fellow-man 
from danger, we forget our own. When the fight 
closes thick around him, the soldier is unmindful 
of the awful peril in which he stands. Luther 
was more self-conscious than John the Baptist was, 
because, heroic though he was and manifestly raised 
up by Providence for his special work, he was yet not 
the simple instrument in God's hand which the son of 
Zacharias was. Yet Luther rose to something of 
the same self-forgetfulness when he declared that he 



26o 



FAITH AND LIFE 



would go to the Diet of Worms though there were 
as many devils aiming at him as there were tiles 
on the roofs. John was less boastful and no less 
brave. He had no Elector behind him and no friends 
with him. He absolutely obliterated himself in the 
work which he was sent to do. He sought no glory 
and no comforts. He heeded neither the frown of the 
priests nor the wrath of the king. He simply and 
without hesitation did his given duty, and spoke the 
word which God had put into his mouth — anxious 
that men should listen to it rather than look at him — 
glad to be known as nothing but a voice — a voice 
from God, crying in the wilderness : " Behold, the 
King Cometh ; prepare ye the way of the Lord." 

Now, in a way, the same motives which operated in 
John's mind can govern us, even though we are not 
specially raised up by God as he was. Every man has 
a divine mission in the world. It may be very hum- 
ble, but it is a real mission. It may be quite out of 
the line of what we commonly call religious work, and 
yet be in the deepest sense a divine mission. Life is 
given us, at any rate, that we may serve God in it ; and 
whatsoever our circumstances or our condition, we may 
serve Him if we have the will. He who has a willing 
heart and an open eye will discover the possibilities 
of service when others see them not. He will rec- 
ognize in the needs of his fellow men a divine call. 
He will feel that he is part of a great organism in 



JOHN THE BAPTIST 



which the Almighty is working out His will and 
plan, and that whatsoever makes truth clearer, or 
society purer, or human suffering less, or ignorance 
rarer, or holiness more dominant, is an agent for the 
fulfilment of that divine will. He will put at the 
forefront of all agencies the Gospel of Jesus Christ, 
and will think life used for the noblest end when con- 
tributing to the spread in the world and in society of 
that blessed truth. 

Thus every one may catch the enthusiasm of appli- 
cation. Every one may feel in a measure the pressure 
of the same motives by which we have supposed that 
John was governed. Each man may feel himself called 
of God to be of use. Each ought to feel that the 
work is of infinitely more importance than he is ; that 
the time is short in which to do it; and that at the 
best it will not be a long work, since our stay in the 
vineyard is but for a little while. So, grasping the 
situation, a true man ought, like John, to forget him- 
self in these divine activities. We have no right to 
consider our own pleasure or even mainly our own 
spiritual profit. It matters little what becomes of us : 
but humanity must be comforted and redeemed, truth 
and God must be glorified. We are not to spend 
our whole time in purifying our hearts, or in mourn- 
ing over our sorrows, or in cultivating our intellects. 
We are to go out of ourselves and give our time to 
purifying others' lives, to comforting others in their 



262 



FAITH AND LIFE 



sorrow, and to driving away ignorance from others' 
minds. Our vision should be directed outward, not 
inward. We should not deem ourselves to be of the 
chief worth.. That which should enlist us is the 
active service to which Providence obviously calls 
us. The consequence will be that through this self- 
forgetfulness our lives will become most useful and 
happy. Our sorrows will be best assuaged by 
sympathy with those of other men. Our knowledge 
will grow wider as we seek to give it to the ignorant, 
whereas he who lives for himself in any sense will 
become the poorer and more wretched for his pains. 
Surely, this is a needed lesson. Forget thyself in 
service for thy Master, if thou wouldst tread the 
noblest path in life. 

But, important as it is, this is not enough, by any 
means, for the full ripening and perfecting of Christian 
character. There may be absorption in benevolent and 
useful work without any sense of personal relationship 
to Christ. If so, the necessary condition of real 
Christian growth is wanting. It is interesting, there- 
fore, to notice the path by which, apparently, John the 
Baptist reached ripeness of character. The second 
passage, which I have chosen as part of the text, indi- 
cates what that path was. 

The inevitable time came when his mission drew to 
a close. The Messiah, for whose advent he had been 
sent to prepare, came upon the scene and gradually 



JOHN THE BAPTIST 



263 



occupied a larger space than His herald in the 
thoughts of the people. The crowd which had at- 
tended on the ministry of the Baptist began to thin, 
while a greater multitude listened to the teaching of 
Jesus. Manifestly, John's day was nearly over. He 
would soon have to stand aside altogether, and in the 
gloom of a prison watch the better ministry of the 
Nazarene. 

It was a proof of the sincerity of John's devo- 
tion to his God-given work that he so gracefully 
recognized the rightfulness of his own diminishing 
popularity. "He must increase; but I must decrease." 
John served so well that he was ready to pass into 
obscurity when his work was done. Not every man 
possesses such humility; and we cannot but consider it 
to have been the crowning beauty of this prophet's 
character that he not only forgot himself in his work, 
but also in its issue. He was ready both to subordinate 
himself to service and to serve so faithfully as to be 
willing to have his service itself forgotten in the suc- 
cess of Him whom he had come to serve. 

But in this John did more than exhibit humility and 
loyalty. He exhibits the precise path along which 
Christian progress lies. I think we may fairly see a 
real growth in John's spiritual life. Beginning by 
consecration to the divine will, he finds that will to be 
submission to Jesus. Gradually Christ supplants in his 
mind even his God-given work. The person of Jesus 



264 



FAITH AND LIFE 



becomes the main object of his attention, — -the sun in 
the heavens before which all the stars hide themselves. 
John learns now to subordinate himself to Christ as he 
had formerly subordinated himself to his work. He 
finds that he must trust Christ absolutely, for even he, 
prophet though he was, did not understand what Jesus 
was going to do. He finds that he must love Christ 
supremely, for in Him the final revelation of God was 
made. He must cease his own activity, because Christ 
must and can do all. He must lay aside his mission, 
for that of the Master has begun. He must hold in 
check his own hopes and fears, for Christ alone knows 
how redemption to Israel is to be brought about. All 
this growth in spiritual character is the appointed way 
for the prophet of the law to ripen into the Christian 
disciple ; so that his words become significant not only 
of his humility and loyalty, but of the positively larger 
and more spiritual view of duty which he had attained, 
when he said, " He must increase, but I must de- 
crease." 

For Christian character ripens in just this way, — 
its progress toward perfection lies just along this line. 
It begins with faith in Jesus Christ as the Saviour and 
Master of our souls. But that is only the beginning. 
It grows in proportion as Christ becomes in us and to 
us more and more ; and we, in conscious distinction 
from Him, become less and less. It ripens by the 
fusion of our motives with His purposes, our affections 



JOHN THE BAPTIST 



265 



with His spirit, until we are able in some measure to 
say with the apostle, It is not we that live but Christ 
that liveth in us. For we must have faith not only in 
Christianity as a system and life, but in Christ as a per- 
sonal Redeemer. 

Thus Christian growth consists in broadening the 
scope of our dependence on Christ, forgetting our own 
merits. As I have said, we in principle depend on 
Him when we first become disciples. But the experi- 
mental realization of what is involved in that principle 
unfolds as we go on. The disciple learns that in order 
to obtain salvation he is to trust absolutely in Jesus ; 
that no works which he can do can merit life : so that 
after a long period of service he feels the nothingness 
of his own labor even more than he did at the begin- 
ning. He learns also that he must trust absolutely to 
Christ's wisdom in the orderings of Providence. He 
must depend upon Christ for guidance ; for sanctifi- 
cation no less than for justification ; for happiness no 
less than for pardon; for assurance as well as for 
cleansing. Thus trust grows in him, grows not only 
in power but in extent. Self-confidence diminishes 
because confidence in Christ increases. Pride dies at 
the feet of ripened faith. He decreases in the sense 
that self-dependence passes utterly and wholly away 
until not a remnant of it is left : whereas Christ increases 
in the sense that His all-sufficiency grows like the dawn 
upon the soul. At last the disciple is able to fathom 



266 



FAITH AND LIFE 



the meaning of the declaration that Christ has been 
made unto us of God wisdom, and righteousness, and 
sanctification, and redemption. 

Then, too, Christian growth consists in the practical 
merging of the human will in the will of Christ, for- 
getting our own plans. It is here that our individuality- 
most plainly appears. It is the human will which is 
the chief rebel against God. The refusal of the will 
to bow before Him is the root of sin. This is the self, 
the personality, which must be brought into living and 
practical unison with God or else be God's everlast- 
ing enemy. So the disciple learns to make his will 
more and more the expression of the mind of Christ. 
This is not to be done by force work. It is the effect 
of a new life. He learns to appreciate the divine beauty 
of Christ's character ; the evident wisdom which dwelt 
in Jesus, and which now, as he believes, rules the 
world. His heart is won by the love of Jesus, so that 
under the Spirit's operation his affections become set 
on things above, where Christ sitteth at the right hand 
of God. Therefore his will ceases to be in oppo- 
sition. It is no longer independent and self-reliant. 
It seeks to express not man's poor purposes and weak 
thoughts, but those of the Son of God. 

Whatever, therefore, Christ commands, the disciple 
becomes willing to do; whatever Christ ordains, he 
becomes willing to bear; wherever Christ sends, 
he becomes willing to go. He can now raise with 



JOHN THE BAPTIST 



267 



more sincerity the prayer, "Thy will be done." 
He has decreased ; Christ has increased. Christ, 
to use the apostle's phrase, becomes formed within 
him. A child will sometimes reproduce almost ex- 
actly the mind of his parent. He has inherited the 
latter's mental characteristics, to begin with ; and 
then training and love and association have done the 
rest. When he becomes older, the child can often 
see his parent in himself, and be sensible that the latter 
has been formed within him. So, but more faithfully, 
ought the disciple to reproduce Christ. This will not 
destroy his own individuality, but perfect it. This will 
not weaken his energy, but direct it to the best issues. 
Nevertheless he will decrease, and Christ will increase 
in him. He will forget his own separate and selfish 
existence through joyous union with Him who is his 
hope of glory. 

Thus Christian growth consists in Christ's becoming 
all in all to the disciple's consciousness. In Christ the 
disciple discovers a new revelation of God and of truth 
which is as vastly greater than his first view of the 
Saviour as the heavens, when seen through a telescope, 
are greater than when seen with the naked eye. In 
Christ he discovers also a sympathy and a patience, 
which appear more lovely and helpful than he ever 
dreamed such things could be. In Christ he finds 
himself complete, — and as his own thought deepens, 
as his own activities expand, as his own needs become 



268 



FAITH AND LIFE 



more manifest, he finds that thought attains its best 
results when in obedience to Christ, that activities do 
most good when guided by Christ, and that the deepest 
needs are amply met in Christ. He has received the 
Spirit of wisdom and of revelation in the knowledge 
of Christ : the eyes of his understanding being en- 
lightened, so that he knows what is the hope of his 
calling and what the riches of the glory of his inherit- 
ance in the saints ; until before the enthralled contem- 
plation of the greatness of Christ he feels that his 
highest joy and blessedness consist in being the ser- 
vant of such a Master and the lowly attendant of such 
a Lord. 

Thus self reaches perfection best through self-abne- 
gation. The believer learns to look wholly away from 
self to Christ. Through submission to the Master 
his own life grows in richness and power and peace. 
What as a self-dependent, independent person he 
had failed to obtain, he does obtain through depend- 
ence and trust. When most sensible of his weakness, 
he finds in Christ's strength that which secures to him 
the results that he desired, but could not win. Christ 
must increase, and the disciple must decrease, in order 
that the disciple himself may attain his own ideal. 
Self-forgetfulness is thus necessary to the disciple's 
growth. In proportion as he subordinates his own 
life to the Saviour's, will his life unfold its divine fruit- 
age. The way of self-development in the spiritual 



JOHN THE BAPTIST 



269 



life is by self-abnegation. The starry crown is won 
by self-forgetfulness due to absorbed attention to 
Christ. He who loses his life is the one who gains 
it. The less we depend on self, the less we con- 
sult self, the less we think of self, and the more we 
depend on, and consult, and think of Jesus Christ, 
the faster will we grow into all that the sons of 
God should be. He must increase, and we must de- 
crease. 

John the Baptist exhibited growth in grace through 
self-forgetfulness in service and in faith ; his self-for- 
getfulness in service ripening into self-forgetfulness 
through faith in Christ ; the latter also, in substance, 
being the principal mainspring of the former. I 
commend this truth to you, Christian people, as the 
secret of power and peace in your Christian living. 
Ourselves are our worst enemies. We give them 
commonly too much attention. We think too much 
of their comfort and pleasure, and, beyond this, we 
waste too much time in foolish efforts to make our- 
selves better and happier. Let us forget ourselves. 
Let us look without us. Let us see the work of God 
which needs to be done, and busy ourselves with doing 
it, wheresoever it may lie, at home or abroad. Let us 
grasp the fullness of Christ and trust Him to make us 
better and to make us happy in His own good time 
and way. We shall have hardly escaped from the 
thraldom of self before we shall have found in the 



2 JO 



FAITH AND LIFE 



larger life of service and of faith the beginning of the 
reward. 

I commend this truth with no less earnestness 
to the people of the world. You are the slaves 
of selfishness. I do not mean that you may not be 
in a degree generous and kindly. But the dominant 
principle of your life, — what is it? Is it not self-in- 
terest ? This slavery to money, and to fashion, and to 
pleasure — are they not various forms of self-worship? 
Trying thus to save your lives, you lose them. You 
lose all greatness from them ; you lose the satisfac- 
tion which might pervade them ; you lose the glory 
which ought to adorn them. And if perhaps your 
consciences have been quickened, you propose to win 
salvation by your works, little thinking how insuf- 
ficient they are for such a purpose. Do you not see, to- 
day, your serious mistake ? You must accept a better 
master than your own poor thoughts. You must 
confess your impotence and rely upon the Saviour. 
You must uncrown self and enthrone the Son of God. 
It is your only hope ; for if you are self-good and self- 
serving, you will be self-destroyed. He who forgets 
himself in life's great work and then in life's Great 
Saviour, has himself found life for evermore. 



XV 



SIMON PETER'S BROTHER 
" Andrew, Simon Peter's brother." — John i. 40. 

There are many very useful people in the world 
who are not appreciated, because they are overshad- 
owed by some one especially conspicuous. They 
are dwarfed by comparison with a giant. They are 
forgotten because the attention of men is fixed on 
the greater one near them. They are like tall trees 
and huge rocks on a mountain's side: tall and huge 
though they be, they look small by contrast with 
the great peak itself Such people may be really 
useful, worthy of study and imitation ; their lives 
may be terrible tragedies ; the pathos of their exist- 
ences may be unutterable ; or the value of their work 
may be actually more than that of another who towers 
over them : but by reason of the latter's nearness they 
are passed by without notice. We are often quite arbi- 
trary in the selection of our models and heroes. We 
confine our admiration to a few whom, indeed, it is 
scarcely possible to imitate, while scores of others 
present excellences which are not less worthy of 
praise, and which may be more nearly within our 
reach. They are cast into the shade, however, by 

271 



2/2 



FAITH AND LIFE 



the more conspicuous object near which it is their 
fortune to be. 

We may apply these remarks to the apostle Andrew; 
and our text suggests the reason for his moderate 
renown. He was Simon Peter's brother. He was 
more distinguished, therefore, by his connection with 
Simon than by what he was or did. No figure 
stands out more prominently in the annals of the 
early Church than that of Peter. How often his 
name is mentioned in the Gospels! How much we 
hear of him in the earlier part of the book of Acts ! 
What a great number of precious practical lessons 
has he been the means of our learning! What a 
mighty character was his, — that Luther of the apos- 
tolic age, — towering, as Luther did, above all but a 
few of his fellow Christians ! But the very fact that 
to distinguish Andrew more clearly it was easiest to 
call him Simon Peter's brother, has tended to ob- 
scure the merit of the less renowned disciple. He is 
presented to us in the Gospel history in the shadow 
of his brother's giant shape. This puts him at a 
disadvantage. Not that Christian historians have been 
wrong in their estimate of the two — Peter was the 
greater; but that Christ, by choosing Andrew also 
to the apostleship, recognized his worth, where his- 
tory has scarcely done so. He is a fair type, we 
doubt not, of multitudes of useful people whose 
worth is unrecognized because men either see or 



SIMON PETER'S BROTHER 



are looking for some one of very extraordinary char- 
acteristics. 

Now it is true that we know but httle of Simon 
Peter's brother. We do not know which was the 
older of the two. We are informed that their home 
was Bethsaida of Galilee, which seems to have been 
a town on the Sea of Galilee not far from Capernaum. 
We hear of Andrew first as one of the disciples of 
John the Baptist, and as one of those who heard 
the great preacher say, as he pointed to Jesus, 
"Behold the Lamb of God ! " That testimony to Jesus 
as the Christ was enough for Andrew and his fellow 
disciple John. They followed Jesus, made His ac- 
quaintance, and abode with Him that day. Andrew 
thenceforth ranked himself as a believer in Jesus of 
Nazareth ; and on the very day of his own accept- 
ance of Jesus, brought his brother Simon Peter to the 
Master. 

Thereafter we hear of this apostle on only four occa- 
sions : When the Galilean ministry of Jesus was begin- 
ning. He called these men, whose faith He had already 
won, to be His constant followers ; and He marked their 
call by the miraculous draught of fishes, which symbol- 
ized so well the task to which He was calling them 
and the power by which He would give them success. 
We are told that Andrew, as well as Peter, obeyed 
the summons, left all, and followed Jesus, in order to 
be a " fisher of men." When, again, the public minis- 

18 



274 



FAITH AND LIFE 



try of Jesus was about half finished, He performed on 
the east shore of the Sea of GaHlee that wonderful act 
of feeding, from a few loaves and fishes, five thousand 
men. St. John, whose clear memory often appears in 
such particulars as this, tells us that when the disciples 
were asked by Jesus how that vast multitude could be 
fed, Andrew replied, with a vague feeling, I suppose, 
that, absurd as the provision seemed, it might be a 
help, or at least a starting-point, for other supplies: 
''There is a lad here which hath five barley loaves, and 
two small fishes; but what are they among so many?" 
Again, when the ministry of Jesus was nearing its 
close, certain Greeks wished to see the new Messiah, 
and applied to Philip. Philip consulted Andrew, and 
together Andrew and Philip told Jesus. And, finally, 
when Christ gave on Mount Olivet to a few disciples 
that solemn prediction of the future, — of the fall of 
Jerusalem, and the troubles and persecutions which 
were impending, and of the end of the world itself, — 
we read not only that Peter and John and James were 
present, — those three whom so often Jesus took into 
special confidence, — but also that Andrew shared on 
this occasion the sad privilege of listening to the 
terrible prophecy. 

With these few items our knowledge of the apostle 
Andrew ends. It is noteworthy that St. John, with 
whom Andrew first found the Saviour, tells us the 
most that we know of Simon Peter's brother. It is 



SIMON PETER'S BROTHER 



275 



noteworthy, also, that Andrew and Phihp are often 
mentioned in a way which seems to indicate that 
they were intimate friends. Perhaps there was more 
congeniahty between the two friends than between 
the two brothers. Andrew, cast into the shade by 
Peter, naturally strengthened his friendship with 
Philip, who was more nearly on his own level. Our 
knowledge of the man, however, is but small. We 
do not wonder that he should be distinguished from 
other Andrews by being called Simon Peter's brother. 
It is true that he was more renowned for his brother 
than for himself. Quite sharp is the contrast between 
the quick-tongued, energetic, commanding Peter, 
whose name is strewn thickly on the pages of the 
Gospels, and the brother, whose name occurs so sel- 
dom, and then apparently in the most incidental way. 

But, in spite of all this, it would be a great mistake 
to slight Andrew and to think that he was of no value 
in the apostolic circle. Let us look a little more closely 
into these glimpses of his life. Let us try to estimate 
the real merit of the man. We should remember that 
in general Andrew was, from first to last, faithful to the 
voice of God. He was one of the disciples of John 
the Baptist, and that means that he was a loyal, earnest 
son of Israel ; a man of spiritual mind, who heard in 
the words of the great preacher a message from 
Almighty God. Nor did he, like so many, follow 
John the Baptist in a blind, unintelligent way. He 



2/6 



FAITH AND LIFE 



believed him to be, as John himself said, the herald of 
the Messiah. Few of the people understood the 
mission of John ; but Andrew did, and he proved the 
fact by leaving the Baptist and joining himself to 
Jesus when the prophet pointed the latter out as the 
promised Christ. From that day forward Andrew 
was faithful to the true Light which had arisen. 
Though not conspicuous, he was devoted; though 
taking no prominent place, he was a faithful follower. 
If no great confession or service is told of him, so 
neither is any great failure or denial. At the Lord's 
command he, too, left all and followed Him. When 
the perils of the way increased, Andrew stood his 
ground firmly. Because nothing noteworthy is related, 
we should not forget that he was a faithful worker. So 
far, at least, he was a type of the true disciple. We 
should bear in mind that of necessity there must be 
many more Andrews than Simon Peters, more captains 
than generals in the army, and that the fidelity of the 
former may be as worthy of praise as the brilliant acts 
of the latter. Andrew became a type of the multitude 
of believers^ who are not called to conspicuous posts, 
but on whose loyalty the cause of Christ depends, and 
in whose ripening Christian characters we may see the 
grace of the Divine Spirit quite as markedly as in the 
shining qualities of the few who are so often marked 
by equally evident faults. 

I see, also, indications of certain distinctive qualities 



SIMON PETER'S BROTHER 2// 

in Andrew which more particularly merit our commen- 
dation. He seems to have had an active, alert mind, 
eagerly watchful of the course of events, and to have 
felt their tremendous importance. He seems to have 
been a wide-awake, useful man of work ; if not as ready 
as Peter to speak in public, quite as ready to speak for 
Christ in private ; always glad to do what he could by 
personal toil to advance the Master's cause. I imagine 
him a man of quick observation and of an inquiring 
mind, as well as of true spiritual fervor. You may 
have noticed in some men of obscure lives nearly all 
the qualities which seem necessary for public position 
— clear judgment, deep conviction, fertility of resources, 
power to influence others — while yet some one defect 
of trifling nature, such as hesitation to act, reticence of 
speech, or the like, may doom them always to be lost 
in the crowd. Perhaps it was so with the apostle 
Andrew. At any rate, he was the means of his greater 
brother's conversion. If Peter overshadowed Andrew, 
Andrew brought Peter to Jesus. No sooner had he 
found the Christ himself than he told the discovery to 
his brother. He began his Christian life in the right 
way. He immediately became a missionary; and, first 
of all, a missionary to his own family, which most men 
find it hard to be. Many would rather preach to the 
heathen than to their brothers. Andrew did the latter, 
and thereby showed one of the traits of his character. 
Then take that other incident, to which I have 



278 



FAITH AND LIFE 



already alluded, when the five thousand were fed. It 
was Andrew who was ready with a practical suggestion. 
He had been on the outskirts of the crowd. While 
the five loaves and two fishes seemed an absurd pro- 
vision for that great multitude, one cannot help believing 
that Andrew was convinced that Christ could make 
some use of them. He seems to me to have been a prac- 
tical worker — a man who, if he could not make an ad- 
dress, could be on the alert for opportunities of helping, 
in a quiet way, the Master's object. He could not help 
exclaiming, as he told Christ of the five loaves and two 
small fishes, " What are these among so many ?" And 
yet the fact that he thought them worth mention at 
all indicates that he had a strong faith in the unlimited 
power of Jesus. Did he not remember that draught 
of fishes in the Sea of Galilee after they had toiled 
all night and taken nothing ? Andrew, with his prac- 
tical mind, was alive to the worth of even small ma- 
terials when put into the hands of the Son of God. 

Then, also, shall we see nothing to commend in the 
way in which Andrew and Philip tell Jesus of the 
desire of the Greeks to see Him ? I find in that 
incident a repetition of the characteristic which Andrew 
had showed at -the first. He is the man who quietly 
and by personal efforts brings men to Jesus. Some of 
the disciples would have hesitated to introduce for- 
eigners to Christ. They would, perhaps, have rejected 
the notion that the Messiah was sent to the Gentiles, 



SIMON PE TER ' S BRO THER 279 

or at least would have feared the possible effect on the 
populace of throwing Christ into association with out- 
siders. Philip was undecided what to do till he had 
consulted Andrew. But the latter seems to have 
better understood his Master. He felt tliat Jesus 
would be glad to help and save any ; and it was just in 
the line of his habits to be thus the medium of leading 
inquiring minds to the Saviour of them all. 

I think then that Peter's shadow is somewhat re- 
moved from his brother. Andrew now appears a 
faithful, useful man, doing good work in a quiet way, 
even in advance of Peter in practical suggestions and, 
perhaps, in the understanding of Christ's mission; not 
fitted, indeed, to fill his brother's place, not the man 
to stand up at Pentecost and preach to thousands, 
but the man to add by constant, personal, practical 
work to the power of the common cause. Every 
Simon Peter needs an Andrew, every preacher needs 
the practical workers to unite with him, just as every 
general needs subordinate officers. If Andrew be 
undervalued because of his brother's brilliancy and 
publicity, he will not be when we remember how 
little the latter could have done, humanly speaking, 
without the aid of the former. Beyond doubt the 
Master's choice was good. Simon Peter's brother 
was as useful in his way and as truly an apostle as 
Simon Peter himself We admit that the latter was 
the greater man of the two ; but we contend that it 



28o 



FAITH AND LIFE 



would be quite unfair to let his splendor throw too 
much into the shadow the practical, useful, faithful life 
of Andrew, his brother. 

Now there are two or three lessons which I wish 
to draw from the life of the apostle Andrew: One is 
the folly of measuring our use and worth by com- 
parison with the other people who are about us. 
There is no more frequent cause of discontent than 
this. Nearly every one finds himself, or thinks he is, 
overshadowed by some one else. Very few rise to 
conspicuous places. Very few attract the special 
notice of the world. Many, however, fret under the 
situation. They do not like to be relegated to 
obscurity. They fancy that they are worth nothing 
and can be of no use, because they are not worth so 
much or are not so useful as others whom they know. 
Strangely, too, this is a frequent fault with good people. 
They have a real desire to be of use to God and 
men. They feel that life is a service; that in one 
sense all are apostles, sent of God with His message 
of love and salvation to the world. But the little that 
it is possible for them to accomplish in the world 
causes discouragement. Others do more than they, 
or seem to be doing more ; and they fall into the 
unhappy habit of " measuring themselves by them- 
selves, and of comparing themselves among them- 
selves" — of estimating their worth by comparison with 
those about them. So they deepen their discontent. 



SIMON PE TER ' S BRO THER 28 1 

Yet surely nothing is more foolish and more super- 
ficial than this. Such an estimate is nowhere consid- 
ered worth anything. As we look over history, and 
try to measure the worth of this and that character, 
we always feel that so long as we confine ourselves to 
their particular circumstances we have the materials 
for only a relative and not an absolute estimate. We 
see some overshadowed, as Andrew was and as we 
may be, by the presence of a few exceptional persons. 
They are born in an age of great men. They are 
thrown into near relation, either of time or place, 
with an illustrious man, and by reason of that fact 
they do not receive their full award of praise. Others, 
on the contrary, are born in an age of little men : 
and though they themselves be small, yet an inch 
or two of height above that of their fellows would 
not be a fair reason for classing them with the great 
of a really great age. In that splendid burst of dra- 
matic poetry which marked the reign of Elizabeth in 
England, there were many men of genius whose 
reputation, except to students of literature, has been 
overshadowed by their nearness to Shakespeare. 
Some one has said, — perhaps not with accuracy, 
but the remark illustrates our point, — that " it was 
fortunate for Cromwell that he appeared upon the 
stage at the precise moment when the people were 
tired of kings ; and unfortunate for his son Richard 
that he had to make good his pretensions at a 



282 



FAITH AND LIFE 



moment when the people were equally tired of pro- 
tectors." However that may have been, other names 
will occur to us of men who became famous because 
they lived when there were none to eclipse their fame ; 
though if they had belonged to a later period they 
would soon have been forgotten. 

We may see others, also, who are overshadowed, 
not by persons, but by circumstances. Some have 
hard tasks, and because they do not succeed perfectly 
they may be undervalued. Others are successful, but 
deserve little praise because their task was easy. In 
none of these cases would an estimate be fair which 
was based only upon comparison with contemporaries. 
The just critic tries to make allowance for these 
facts. He who has been obscured by the nearness of 
a stronger light may reflect that otherwise he would 
shine brightly too, like the stars at night. And some- 
times we find on examination that, like the stars, he 
may be really greater even than the nearer sun which 
hides his light from the eyes of men. 

We must not make this mistake in our own cases. 
It is folly to compare ourselves thus with those about 
us. We shall be sure to find ourselves excelled. We 
shall be sure to find ourselves hidden by the shadow 
of a larger figure ; and if once we begin such com- 
parison, we shall be doomed to discontent. The 
vigor of our life will wane. God does not judge us 
so. He knows our absolute worth. Christ chose 



SIMON PE TER 'S BKO THER 283 

Andrew no less than Peter. He saw his worth, He 
appreciated his character, He made him useful. To 
Christ the Master, therefore, are we to look, going 
each the way which He has appointed, never say- 
ing, "Lord, what shall this man do?" but ''What 
wilt Thou have me to do ? " — content through 
knowing that in His eyes our desire to serve Him 
will never be unseen or unrewarded. What if 
others seem to excel us? It is not for us to make 
such comparisons. Christ will know whether we 
are doing our work well or not. 

Then, also, we may be reminded by Simon Peter's 
brother of the great positive need which every cause 
has of quiet, inconspicuous, but faithful workers. Is it 
not suggestive of this that so few of the apostles 
should have left their mark upon the history of the 
Church or on the record in the New Testament? 
Were they not called to the post of highest honor 
possible for man ? Was not their work the grandest 
that men have ever been commissioned to perform ? 
And is there any reason to think that, except Judas 
Iscariot, they were unfaithful? Yet how little do 
we know of most of them ! Only a few were 
meant to leave behind them not only permanent 
but visible effects. The rest scattered and toiled on 
till death called them to their reward. They 
started missions here and there ; they witnessed for 
Christ and the resurrection. They were none the 



284 



FAITH AND LIFE 



less necessary, none the less useful, for having been 
forgotten. Certainly, it is true in secular affairs that 
the inconspicuous people do the bulk of the world's 
work. A few may lead; and it may be that but 
for them the mass would go astray. But the quiet 
workers achieve the principal results. The private 
soldiers win the battle. The workmen make the 
goods. The miners dig out the ore. And the prog- 
ress of human society is due not merely to the 
genius of the few, but also to the work and faithful- 
ness of the unknown many. 

Thus Andrew becomes an encouragement to us, 
and particularly in respect to that moral and relig- 
ious toil which God has apportioned to every one. 
He suggests the power of personal work and influ- 
ence exerted in quiet ways. We recall how he 
brought his brother Simon Peter to Jesus, saying, 
We have found the Messias " ; and then how he 
made himself the willing medium through which 
even Gentiles could approach the Saviour of the 
world. Now there is an amount of usefulness pos- 
sible in this way which can scarcely be overstated. 
Personal influence is a great force, more irresistible 
than eloquence or formal authority ; and yet it is a 
force which depends only on character, — yea, may 
sometimes issue unconsciously, and even from a child. 
Men may yield assent to argument or eloquence, but 
a word from one whom they love or admire will do 



SIMON PE TER 'S BRO THER 285 

far more to fix their faith. You do not need to be 
conspicuous in order to be useful, so long-as you can 
reach men individually ; can throw the weight of your 
personal life and character for God and His Son : so 
long as you can stand in your place, whatever it be, 
and convince men that you are a Christian : so long 
as you can go here and there on errands of love and 
of salvation, telling the needy of the riches of God's 
grace, saying to one and another of your fellow men, 
" We have found the Christ." 

Assuredly, this is a great lesson. What Christianity 
needs, in order to her speedier success, is not better 
arguments, not more elaborate churches, not elo- 
quence, not genius, not more Peters and Pauls and 
Johns. She needs all of her humbler disciples to 
give themselves, in their humble spheres, to the 
work, as far as in them lies, of saving souls. She 
needs the rank and file of her legions to do their 
individual duty. Men easily come to think that the 
ministry and the formal servants of the Church are 
the only agents whom Christ has chosen. It is a 
great mistake. Every one of us, by the power of 
quiet personal work, may, like Andrew, be worthy 
of a place among apostles. 

Truly, as we look over the annals of human progress 
under the Gospel, we are forced again and again to 
confess the usefulness of thousands of whom the world 
has heard but little. You could probably count upon 



286 



FAITH AND LIFE 



your fingers the names of those whom you call the 
chief defenders of Christ's cause in our age. But you 
forget. Think of the hundreds who are quietly teach- 
ing and preaching Christ in every heathen nation ; 
think of the ten thousands who, week by week, 
throughout Christendom, are telling the children of 
the Saviour. Think of the millions who are giving 
their prayers, their money, and their influence to the 
cause of the kingdom. And you will see that the real 
power which is winning the world for God lies in 
just these countless quiet, unknown people, who are 
working together, though to each other unknown, 
for the name of the one Lord. These are the 
Andrews of our day — hidden, perhaps, as the apostle 
was, by the brighter blaze of a few or of one, but 
from Christ's sight not hidden, in Christ's view 
most useful, and destined not to fail of a reward. 
Did He not put the apostles on an equality ? " Ye 
shall sit upon twelve thrones, judging the twelve 
tribes of Israel," said He. Andrew then shall have 
his true position, and it will be as glorious, as honor- 
able as Simon Peter's own. 

Our lesson, therefore, is. Do not be discouraged 
by the greater fame, the more brilliant success of 
others. Do not mind if you are overshadowed. You 
will not mind, if yow are living not for this world's 
applause, but for the praise of Christ and for doing 
right. Believe me, Christ has given you a great work, 



SIMON PETER'S BROTHER 



287 



great possibilities, great chances of being useful. You 
have only to go to work, day by day. Remember 
your calling. Think no man unworthy of your effort. 
Be on the alert for opportunities. Do your own work, 
help and save your own friends, make your own influ- 
ence what it ought to be, and do not care one whit 
whether men are looking at you or at some more 
shining figure. Thank God that you have not Peter's 
perils and temptations. Thank Him for what you are 
enabled in your quieter life to do, and do it with your 
might; for no man need be useless, and no man 
need fail, unless he choose to, of gaining from 
Christ a crown and a throne. 



\ 



XVI 



A NOBLE LIFE 

For I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is 
at hand. I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, 1 have 
kept the faith." — 2 Timothy iv. 6, 7. 

We learn some of our best lessons from the death- 
hours of our fellow-men. The voice which is already 
almost a voice from the grave strikes into our very 
souls. Or even if the dying lips give no utterance, 
our minds fancy that we can hear what they would 
speak. At such a moment we are forced to moralize. 
We see the ways of life converging ; results revealing 
the value of principles ; hope turning into retrospect. 
The moral naturally comes out at the end of the story; 
and even the fastest runners in the common race are 
forced to pause and think when one by their side 
falls into the dust, and by the mere fact of dying be- 
comes a teacher of the living. By the graves of the 
righteous we instinctively cry with Balaam, " Let 
me die the death of the righteous, and let my last 
end be like his." And even the most careless feel, 
for at least a moment, the wrong of sin and the 
worth of godliness. 

Thus the great apostle gave as his last legacy to 
19 289 



290 



FAITH AND LIFE 



Timothy the splendid moral of his own life. He is an 
old man writing to a young man. He feels himself virtu- 
ally dead. " Already," he says, " I am being offered." 
All hope of further work was ended. His martyr- 
dom was certain. He was lying in a Roman prison. 
No doubt he was already actually sentenced. At 
any rate, he had given up all expectation of release. 
He felt like a victim laid upon the altar, and seemed to 
see the glittering knife uplifted to slay him. There- 
fore he wrote to his beloved friend and spiritual son 
with perfect freedom. 

There is no coarse egotism in this frank expression 
of satisfaction with his life. He was prompted to 
write as he did, no doubt, by several considerations. 
Timothy was his intimate companion, and he could 
speak to him as a father to a son. Timothy, 
moreover, was still in the midst of the battle, 
and needed the encouragement which the peace 
and joy of his dying father were likely to impart. 
Then, too, Paul felt himself to be a representative 
man. He stood for the Gospel to the Gentiles. He 
had been bitterly assailed, even by those who should 
have been his friends. He had suffered for his faith 
the loss of all worldly goods. His life had, indeed, 
been a battle with poverty, with persecution, with 
falsehood and wrong, as well as with indwelling sin. 
He naturally spoke, therefore, in his dying hour in the 
name of his faith. He would support it with his last 



A NOBLE LIFE 



291 



breath. He would testify to its worth at that moment 
when all things are tested. He would certify to the 
absence of even the least shadow of regret as he re- 
viewed the way which had begun with the renunciation 
of early ambitions, which had been thorny, and bloody, 
and tortuous, and which was now ending in a violent 
death. Hence, I suppose, the freedom of his speech. 
Hence this full expression of satisfaction as he reviewed 
the past. He was not moved by any wish to be canon- 
ized as a saint. He was simply full of gratitude to the 
gracious Lord who had saved and used him. He gave 
his dying testimony that Timothy and all men might 
receive a fresh impulse to follow, as he had done, in 
the footsteps of the Son of God. 

Behold, then, Paul's readiness to die. The strife 
was over with him. The appointed hour had come. 
He looks back and he looks forward, and if in the 
future he can see, like a star in the night, the glittering 
crown which God had promised, he can see, too, in 
the past, manifold sources of satisfaction ; and as he 
lies on the altar, he can feel that he has not lived and 
toiled in vain. 

I ask you to notice his three sources of satisfaction 
as he reviewed his life. We may glean from them 
how our lives ought to be viewed by us, and how we 
may live so as to die with the shining crown in sight. 

He rejoiced, then, that he had "fought the good 
fight." There was no doubt that he had been a 



292 



FAITH AND LIFE 



warrior and his life a battle. From the hour of his 
conversion he had been in armor, his shield scarcely 
ever lowered, and his sword scarcely ever in the scab- 
bard. He had contended with the tremendous power 
of old tradition, of family and racial prejudice, so that 
his own people had branded him with the name of 
traitor and renegade. He had contended with mis- 
fortune. In spite of poverty he had carried on his 
mission, working with his own hands for self-support. 
In spite of a score of physical evils, — shipwreck, per- 
secution, bodily sickness, — he had kept to his chosen 
task. He had contended, likewise, against many errors 
which threatened to spoil or undo the work of his life ; 
he had fought the haughty power of philosophy, the. 
tyranny of mobs, and the displeasure of princes. He 
had led the attack of a new religion against the 
strongly intrenched forces of ancient superstitions ; 
had assaulted the favorite passions of the human heart; 
had charged against the old gods and their worship, 
and had given them their death-blow. Whatever may 
be our valuation of Paul's work, no doubt he was a 
warrior in the battlefield of mind and society. He 
was a controversialist; he was a missionary; he was 
plainly declared, by his sufferings, to be, in the view 
of the world, the active enemy of its pleasures. Ac- 
cording to his own graphic description, his lot had 
been cast in labors more abundant, in strifes above 
measure, in prisons more frequent, in deaths oft." 



A NOBLE LIFE 



Wounded, bruised, captured, condemned to die, — he 
could at least say with truth that his life had been a 
battle. 

But I beg you to notice that his satisfaction did 
not arise from the mere excitement and pleasure of 
the war, nor from the consciousness that he had con- 
ducted himself well. There are some who love fight- 
ing for its own sake. They enjoy a controversy. 
Their spirits rise with danger. They are happiest 
when they don their intellectual armor and enter the 
field. And some, I suppose, even congratulate them- 
selves, when life is ending, that they have contended 
so well. They count their laurels. They relate with 
pride how they worsted some competitor in debate 
or in business ; how they shrewdly circumvented some 
fellow-man. They look at life as nothing but a battle, 
and, like some old soldier, live over in their age the 
fierce encounters of bygone days. It is hard, however, 
to have much admiration for such a spectacle. That 
a dying man should not be a man of peace is almost 
horrible. Even on actual fields of blood, dying ene- 
mies clasp hands and enter the other world friends. 
I would not like to imagine the apostle flushing in 
his last moments with the remembrance of his valor. 
It was not this which made him glad. Our common 
translation misinterprets him. He did not say, "I 
have fought a good fight," as though his fighting 
qualities were the source of his satisfaction. He said, 



294 



FAITH AND LIFE 



" I have fought the good fight." He rejoices not in 
his own bravery, but in the justice of his cause. He 
had not been fighting for self, or money, or office. 
He had been a warrior indeed, — but for truth and 
righteousness. He had been contending against sin, — 
in the world and in his own soul. He had been privi- 
leged to range himself with goodness and truth in their 
conflict with vice and error. This was his first source 
of satisfaction as he reviewed his life. Forced to 
fight, he had fought on the right side. Covered with 
wounds, every one of them was a mark of his loyalty 
to God. He was glad that he had fought the good 
fight; that, in a world of conflict, he had by divine 
grace given all his power to the side of God, and 
truth, and righteousness. This was quite another 
spirit from that of an aged warrior telling over the 
battles of his youth. 

Now, it is almost too trite to say that life must be a 
battle, if it is to result in anything worthy of remem- 
brance. Every man finds it so, unless he is content 
to go down to an unhonored grave. It is a struggle 
for existence, to say no more. Most men have to win 
their daily bread, — struggling against the temptations 
to indolence, perhaps against misfortune, certainly 
struggling against the lawful competition of others. 
It is in such a struggle that ordinarily industry, per- 
severance, courage, and training capture the spoils. 
But then, too, fife is a struggle the more fierce 



A NOBLE LIFE 



295 



in proportion as the coveted prize is nobler than 
bread and raiment. One must needs fight like a 
Spartan for the honors of the world ; endure the hard- 
ship of many a long campaign before a fortune has 
been gathered. There are now and then men born 
to crowns and milHons, but they are simply enjoying 
the fruits of the conflicts which their fathers waged. 
The natural drift of things is against our pleasure. 
The body is always wearing out, and money is always 
taking wings, and honors are always being forgotten, 
and work is always being surpassed. We have only to 
stand still in order to perish ; and, therefore, life calls 
for all the diligence and perseverance, all the tenacity 
of purpose, and self-control, and patient industry which 
we can acquire. 

I might profitably enlarge upon this. There are 
many to whom this seems the most important lesson. 
No man can play with vice without endangering his 
honor. Vice, ignorance, idleness, — whatever enfeebles 
the hand and brain, or tempts a man from his place 
in the ranks, — must be sternly overcome by those of 
us who would make our lives worth living. But 
this is not the lesson taught by Paul. Many a man 
has had all the qualities of success and has suc- 
ceeded, and yet when his death-hour came, has bit- 
terly felt that the prize was not worth the struggle. 
The apostle taught that there are some things worthier 
our struggle than all else, and that satisfaction will 



296 



FAITH AND LIFE 



come if we can feel that for these things we have 
contended. There is one fight going on all the time, 
which is called, by preeminence, the good fight." It 
is the copy in our world of the struggle of the angel 
powers themselves. It is the battle of light with 
darkness. It is the gigantic effort of the human soul, 
under the influence of God, to overcome its lusts, to 
cleanse its abode of the shames and wrongs which foul 
them. It is the struggle of the mind to shake off the 
fetters of ignorance and slavish fear, and to come out 
into the sunhght of God's truth. 

For a man to be captivated by the mere struggle 
for existence, or for pleasure and comfort, is for him 
to say virtually he has no soul. If he had, he would 
feel that the fight which demands his life is that 
between God and the devil. Its forms are many, 
its phases innumerable. But in them all there is 
the conflict of but two principles, — of evil against 
duty, of moral slavery against freedom, of sin against 
righteousness, of ignorance and error against knowl- 
edge and truth. The greatest source of satisfaction 
will be that we have enlisted in this war, and that 
we have fought for God. We may have had hum- 
ble positions ; we may have received many wounds 
and falls ; we may have won few victories ; we may 
have lived but a few years ; but we have done what 
we could, and our lives have been a contention not 
for selfish enjoyment, but for the advancement, in 



A NOBLE LIFE 297 

some way and in some relation, of the kingdom of 
divine peace. Fellow-men, you cannot escape conflict. 
Why not then battle for what is right? You cannot 
escape wounds. Why not receive wounds of honor? 
We must work, and toil, and suffer. Why not do it 
for a cause which will give us the satisfaction of 
knowing that, whether of great or little use, we have 
at least thrown our energies into "the good fight"? 

But note the apostle's second cause of satisfac- 
tion in his review of his life. I have finished the 
course." What course? we may ask. Clearly, the 
course appointed him by God. It was now finished. 
He had reached the goal. And he felt satisfaction in 
the thought, not so much that it was over, as that he 
had submitted to the will of Him who had directed 
his way, 

Paul was a conspicuous example of a man whose 
life had been chosen for him by God. Certainly, 
the course along which he had come was one of 
which, in the beginning, he had never dreamed. He 
had chosen to become the valorous champion of 
Judaism. God chose him to be the champion of the 
faith against which Judaism waged war. When this 
direction had been given to his steps, he would fain have 
chosen to preach to his own people whom he had 
zealously misled. But God chose him to be His mes- 
senger to the Gentiles, and in that work his move- 
ments were singularly directed from above. It was 



298 



FAITH AND LIFE 



the Spirit who said in Antioch, " Separate me Barnabas 
and Saul for the work to which I have called them." 
It was the Spirit who hindered his laboring in Ephesus 
until he had first carried the Gospel to Macedonia 
and Greece. It was the choice of the Master that 
through the persecution of his countrymen he should 
be carried to Rome and enabled by his very imprison- 
ment to tell of Christ to Caesar's household. If ever 
a man had reason to feel himself God's instrument, it 
was Paul. If ever a man had reason to feel that noth- 
ing had come to him by chance, but all by divine 
appointment, it was Paul. He did so feel. He was 
impressed with the conviction that he was God's in- 
strument ; that he had been raised up for a purpose ; 
that his had been a course marked out by the decree 
of the Almighty in order to the salvation of mankind. 

Therefore, in his last hours, looking back upon 
the way, he enjoyed the satisfaction of knowing that 
his life had been God's handiwork, and that he had 
fulfilled the divine will. Mark, that he could have this 
feeling even though conscious of many shortcomings. 
No man was ever less conceited than Paul. So far as 
his personal character was concerned, he was always 
ready to condemn himself The bitter remembrance 
of his early life was ever uprooting the least tendency 
to pride ; and the sense of ill desert was repeatedly ex- 
pressed. To this same Timothy he had but lately 
called himself the chief of sinners." 



A NOBLE LIFE 



299 



Nor did the apostle mean to say that he had done 
for Christ all the work he would like to have done. 
There were regions which he had not visited. There 
were millions of souls who had never heard of re- 
demption. He was far from wishing, I doubt not, to 
retire from the ministry. His was too great a scul 
not to lay plans which it was impossible to accom- 
plish. 

His feehng was simply that what he had been 
able to do was what had been appointed him to do. 
God had meant him to do so much and no more. 
He included in his review of his course all events 
which had befallen him. He included his sufferings, 
his losses, his disappointments, his omissions, as well 
as his personal labors and gains. He was but an in- 
strument. The work which he had not been able to 
do others would accomplish. Every good man's life 
fits into its intended place, and Paul's joy was that he 
had been made willing both to do and to suffer accord- 
ing to the will of God. 

According to this, life is an appointment. We 
must not allow this view to degenerate into fatal- 
ism. We must not make it an excuse for idly drift- 
ing with the current of circumstances. No man was 
ever so strong a predestinarian and, at the same 
time, so energetic a worker as Paul. The view of life 
as a divine appointment in all its parts, which he has 
taught, is rather a summons to do with all our might 



300 



FAITH AND LIFE 



the will of God. It is the appointment of freemen, 
not the bondage of slaves. But with this caution, we 
may find in it a grand secret of strength and of true 
success. How inspiring is the thought that this in- 
tricate system which we call society, this infinitely 
involved life of humanity, is working out the purpose 
of the One in whom the whole lives and moves and 
has its being! If so, then true success consists in 
doing the part assigned us. The best workman in a 
factory is not one who tries to do everything, who 
thinks he knows everything, but the one who does 
his own work perfectly. A complete life is one which 
has done its own work. You who are young know 
not what your part is to be. It may involve great 
suffering, or it may involve great wealth. We cannot 
tell. But whatever it involves, it is part of the divine 
plan, and if we are God's, it will work out our own 
good. 

Therefore, he is the wisest man who goes into life 
with the conviction that he has something definite 
to do there, and makes it his business to follow, as 
best he can, the indications of Providence. True, God 
does not send us our orders as a general sends his to 
his soldiers. But He has given us plain directions 
about the principles to govern life, and His Providence 
supplies the material to which we are to apply them. 
The noblest life is not that which seeks to do its own 
will, neither is it that which indolently waits for God 



A NOBLE LIFE 



301 



to do His will with it. The noblest life is that which 
strives to do His will. This means the greatest conse- 
crated resignation in its place, and patience in its place, 
and industry in its place, and joy and peace in all 
places ; and, through all, it means a living faith — 
not merely faith in the past or in the future, but faith 
in the present as the manifestation of God's wisdom. 

It is this faith which makes a man work while it 
is called to-day — " not slothful in business, fervent in 
spirit, serving the Lord " — and which also makes 
him take reverses without despair, and afflictions 
without doubting, and meet death with joy. It is 
equally the faith for the martyr and for the man of 
business, for the king and for the peasant. Each 
one of us has his own course. Let a man take 
Christ for his Master, and then, be his fortune what 
it may, if only he follow his Guide, he will have the 
satisfaction of feeling, at the end, that his life, though 
it were the humblest, had been like the apostle's, 
yea, like Christ's, — part of God's plan in the salva- 
tion of man. What inspiration better than this ! 
What bitterness to feel at death that one has fought 
against wisdom in the vain effort to serve oneself! 
What peace to be able to feel that we have " finished 
the course!" 

And now you will notice that in the remaining 
clause of this terse and eloquent passage, which fell 
from the apostle's lips under the evident strain of in- 



302 



FAITH AND LIFE 



tense emotion, he states in plain terms the original 
source of this satisfaction which in the previous clauses 
we have found him to express under such forcible 
figures. I have fought the good fight," have thrown 
my energy on the side of Christ and righteousness. I 
have finished the course, have done my appointed task 
of mingled suffering and action. In fine, I have kept 
the faith " — and, as we have seen, that good fight is the 
battle of faith ; and the appointed course is the way 
of faith. It is evident that in this last clause we have 
the plain, straightforward statement of the source of 
the dying apostle's joy. 

He had kept the faith. He speaks of it as a trust 
committed to his care. It had been given him by 
revelation from God, and to it he had devoted his 
whole life. He had kept it from the covert attacks of 
mistaken Christians and the open assaults of unbelief 
He had kept it through those hours of spiritual dark- 
ness through which he, no less than others, had had 
to pass. He had kept it in Jerusalem before the mob 
howling for his denial of it ; before philosophers who 
sneered at its absurdity; before Roman power, with its 
burning pitch, and bloody arena, and executioner's 
block. 

Wonderfully varied had Paul's trials been. The 
prince of this world had used his shrewdest devices 
to filch his faith away. But the believer had kept 
his treasure, and now that the war and toil were over, 



A NOBLE LIFE 



his faith stood by his side, like a protecting angel, 
pointing to the near reward. 

It is certain that this is, in substance, the supreme 
duty for you and me. This phrase puts before us the 
principle by which alone our lives can be redeemed 
from eternal ruin. What you need, fellow-men, in 
your passage through this world, is to keep the 
faith. You have received it from God as truly as 
Paul did. You are heirs of nineteen Christian cen- 
turies — spiritual children of apostles, and prophets, and 
confessors — and there is no treasure which birth or 
work can give you equal to this Christian faith. 

You will find this advice sorely needed. For the 
chief object of all evil is to take your faith away. I 
mean not merely that to this end are the arguments of 
professed infidelity directed. To this end are directed 
also the far subtler arguments of the practical world 
with which you must mingle. The pressure of constant 
work will tend to rob you of your faith, because it will 
suggest that what you gain comes only from your own 
skill and toil. The ways of the world, in its social 
relations, will too often suggest that it is folly to live 
for distant pleasures and rewards when tangible ones 
can be had immediately. Then, in the association of 
trial and sorrow, you will feel a giant's hand striving to 
wrest from you your faith in the goodness and being 
of God. You will find it the struggle of struggles to 
maintain your faith in God when His ways are strange; 



304 FAITH AND LIFE 

your faith in man when the soul is hidden in fleshli- 
ness and sin ; your faith in immortaUty ; and, as the 
centre of all truth, your faith in Jesus Christ. And 
even as you rally your resolution there will sometimes 
come the sickening doubt whether you are right in 
maintaining the contest, — whether you and your fellow- 
men mieht not as well lie down Hke beasts in the dust 
and die, 

I say this not to encourage doubt, but to warn 
you of the lofty enterprise to which God calls us 
in this world. It is to live by faith, — yea, by the 
faith of the Son of God who loves you. How do we 
know it ? We know it by the fruits which " the faith " 
has always borne ; so that no lives are so God-like as 
those of believers. We know by the clear historic 
testimony which has been borne to the truth of Jesus ; 
by the effects which faith in Him have produced in the 
life of humanity. We know it by the testimony of our 
own souls to their spiritual and God-like nature. This 
is no mere dogma of theology. This is no invention 
of priests. Faith is a necessity of the soul, if man 
would not find himself wandering away from and 
losing sight of the Ideal of perfection which he calls 
his God. What is more horrible than a soul that 
has lost the faith ? With it, it has lost hope, and the 
future is mist and blackness. With it, it has lost cour- 
age, for the stimulus of courage has been destroyed. 
With its faith, it has lost its sense of God and eternity. 



A NOBLE LIFE 



and must, therefore, needs dwindle into either a sneer- 
ing skeptic or a child of passion and of sin. 

I beseech you, young men, to keep the faith. I am 
not pleading for any bhnd adherence to tradition 
for tradition's sake. Let your faith grow w^ith grow- 
ing knowledge and ripen with the experience of life. 
I am pleading for that living, spiritual power, that 
conviction of the truth and that sense of the universal 
reality of God and of Christ as the only Saviour, 
which is rightly called the faith," and by which alone 
you can resist the evil and attain to the final good. 
This is the shield by which you may quench the fiery 
darts of the wicked one. This is the treasure by 
guarding which you will become fit for the enjoyment 
of heaven and a victor in the present battle of life. 
Behold the dying apostle, smiling amid his martyrdom, 
as he catches sight of the crown of righteousness 
waiting to adorn his brow; and let it give force to 
the words which Christ sent to His people in their 
temptation : Hold fast that thou hast : let no man 
take thy crown." 

Fellow-men, God pleads for your outspoken faith. 
Without it, you are lost souls. With it, you may be 
more than conquerors. In your business and in your 
studies, in your private lives and in your public stations, 
let the words of inspiration ever ring in your ear: 
" This is the victory that overcometh the world, even 
our faith." 
20 



XVII 



GOD'S EDUCATION OF HIS CHILDREN 

"As an eagle stirreth up her nest, fluttereth over her young, spread- 
eth abroad her wings, taketh them, beareth them on her wings : so the 
Lord alone did lead him, and tAere was uo strange god with him." — 
Deut. xxxii. II, 12, 

That God is in this world educating His children, 
is a truth that puts us in a position to understand 
much of His dealing with us that would otherwise 
be unaccountable. If He be thus doing, He must 
accommodate, for example, His disclosure of truth 
to our capacities : these must expand before more 
truth can be received. Slowly must the training 
proceed in order that our faculties may be strength- 
ened, our sympathies quickened, our whole being 
lifted from step to step in the ascent toward complete 
knowledge. 

This, you will see, throws light on the slowness with 
which revelation itself was given to the world, the 
time extending over a period of at least fifteen hun- 
dred years ; on the peculiar manner in which it was 
interwoven with the history of national, and the prog- 
ress of individual, life ; on the gradual way in which 
the world, as a whole, is being led into the knowledge 
of divine truth. When we consider the vast numbers 

307 



3o8 



FAITH AND LIFE 



of our race, and the intricacy of the process by which 
human souls must be trained, we must feel that 
the slow growth of man into the divine life is not so 
strange as at first might appear. And we shall per- 
ceive that this method is employed not because God 
does not know the end from the beginning ; and not 
because He cannot, if He choose, work miracles of 
transformation; but because it is better for us that the 
course should be made by regular and gradual pro- 
cesses, — by methods adapted to us rather than to 
God. 

This idea of patient training is expressed in our 
text with reference to God's treatment of Israel. The 
passage is part of the magnificent song which Moses 
addressed to the people before he left them, a song 
to which he was specially inspired, and in which he 
most poetically described their God and His dealing 
with them. Jehovah had found them lost and perish- 
ing; forgetful of their ancestral faith; polluted by 
pagan influences and by years of degrading bondage. 
Very patiently had He trained them ; seeking to bring 
out their strength, but most compassionate of their 
weakness ; instructing them in the way of salvation 
and forgiving their repeated transgressions ; correct- 
ing their faults and developing their powers. 

In this work Moses himself had shared, and he could 
speak of it feelingly. He had been the under-teacher, 
but he knew well that the truth taught was God's, not 



GOD'S EDUCATION OF HIS CHILDREN 309 

his ; the plan pursued, the patience shown, the wisdom 
manifested, the protection afforded, had all been the 
Lord's own doing. This he depicted under the figure 
of an eagle teaching her young to fly. Her object is 
to train their powers and, meanwhile, to protect them 
from peril. 

As the picture of the text is a most striking and 
beautiful one, so the thought it contains, of the two- 
fold purpose of God in the education of His people, 
is a theme of universal application to all who by 
faith number themselves among His Israel. Let me 
present it to you in its application to ourselves. 
God is educating His people. If we rebel against 
Him, we are hke truant children who will not go to 
school, and who must take the consequences of igno- 
rance and self-will. If we submit, we shall find that, 
in this sense also. He is our Father. Observe that, 
according to the text, the double purpose in God's 
mind in relation to us is our development and our pro- 
tection. Let us consider these in turn. 

In the first place, then, God seeks by His treat- 
ment of us on earth to develop in us spiritual powers. 
I ought to guard this statement, indeed, by remarking 
that He does something more than simply develop. 
It is not true that mere education, even by a divine 
hand, will suffice to make any man what he ought to 
be. This is proved by the fact that the same course 
will benefit some and harm others. Nor is this dif- 



FAITH AND LIFE 



ference a mere matter of nature. It is not true that 
some are born good and some bad; just as some 
are born bright and some dull. The Bible explicitly 
declares all to be born bad : and, therefore, before 
God can begin His education of the soul the germ 
of spiritual life must be implanted in it. You can- 
not train a dead vine, be the soil never so fertile 
and the sun never so constant. You cannot educate 
an imbecile. There must be life to be developed. 

Hence in speaking of God's education, we can only 
refer to those in whom the spirit of faith has begun to 
dwell. To be sure, God may educate the race intel- 
lectually, but that does not secure the salvation of 
every member of the race. I would speak rather 
of His education of His people. They are believers. 
They have the Spirit. Only, their faith is perhaps as 
small as a grain of mustard-seed ; their life is so weak 
and immature as to be like to the life of a weak plant 
rather than of a spiritual soul. It is, however, on this 
basis that God works, and the purpose of our text is 
to bring out His tender care in the development of 
the souls of His children. For to as many as receive 
Him, to them gives He power to become the sons of 
God, which are born not of the will of the flesh, nor 
of the will of man, but of God. 

With this proviso, notice the evidence which life 
affords of God's desire to develop our powers. It 
appears, first of all, in His recognition of our individual 



GOD'S EDUCATION OF HIS CHILDREN 3II 

freedom. We touch here upon a confessedly difficult 
subject; yet the general fact is certain and the bear- 
ing of it on our education is plain. We are con- 
scious of being in some sense free. To be sure, we 
are also sensible that our freedom is Hmited. We 
cannot do all that we may choose. Our freedom is 
limited by our circumstances, which may as effectually 
confine us as a cage does a bird. It is limited by the 
rights and powers of others ; by misfortune or by the 
habits of our own minds. Above all do we know that 
our freedom is limited by the moral law and by God 
Himself But nevertheless we know that we are free. 
We are conscious of acting upon reasons ; of being 
governed by intelligible motives. We select our aims 
and work toward them. We recognize certain prin- 
ciples and confess our allegiance to them. Or perhaps 
we rebel against them. We love, and hate, and think. 
So that while we are surrounded by forces mightier 
than we, while we are no doubt entirely dependent 
upon God at every moment and in every act for our 
very existence, still we are not mere pieces of ma- 
chinery, but rational and self-acting spirits. 

It matters not, I conceive, whether this freedom be 
all that we may suppose it to be or not. It matters 
not that we are often influenced by forces of whose 
action we know nothing ; nor that, unknown to us, 
God Himself may be working in us and with us. 
Whatever may be back of our conscious hfe, in it we 



312 



FAITH AND LIFE 



are sensible of acting upon motives, and being gov- 
erned by truth, and of growing in intelligence, and of 
making discoveries. This is part of man's personality; 
and therefore if he is to develop, it must be after the 
manner not of a machine, by having new parts added 
to it externally, but by the exercise of his powers, so 
that he grows from within outward, and transforms 
what he receives into part of his very being. 

Therefore, mark how God presents to us the truth. 
No doubt, if He chose He might by His power make 
us become quickly what we ought to be ; might take 
away all our love of sin ; might at once create within 
us clean hearts ; and might cause to dawn upon our 
minds at one vision the whole of truth. At least we 
may imagine such a proceeding, though probably you 
all feel that it would be so mechanical that it would not 
really develop us. It would be the making of a new 
race, not the uplifting of the old race. But whether 
supposable or not, this is certainly not the way in 
which God purifies and enlightens us. He uses truth. 
He treats us as intelligent persons to be persuaded and 
convinced. He has been at great pains to reveal to 
us Himself and His will ; and that too, little by little, 
line upon line, and precept upon precept, that we may 
take it in. 

He, therefore, presents to us Christ, and invites 
our faith : gives us evidence to weigh and an ex- 
ample to inspire. The Spirit uses the truth to 



GOB'S EDUCATION- OF HIS CHILDREN 313 

change our natures. No grown man can be converted 
except through the apprehension of the truth. You 
cannot change his hfe as you might change his coat, 
by some magical process, unintelligible to himself. 
The Spirit enlightens our minds in the knowledge of 
Christ, and persuades and enables us to embrace Jesus 
Christ freely offered to us in the Gospel. And so on 
through the Christian hfe. We are to know the truth 
that it may make us free. We are to strive to enlarge 
our knowledge of it; to apprehend its meaning and 
its proofs ; to grow into it by its growing into us. 
This is the development, you see, of a spirit, not the 
growth of an animal or the erection of a building; 
and, therefore, God presents to you His truth, that by 
your personal apprehension of it, you — a free and 
thinking soul — may develop in the directions which 
the truth commands. 

So, also, consider how God holds us accountable 
for our conduct. Accountability implies intelligence 
and freedom. It supposes that we are able to appre- 
ciate a difference between right and wrong, between 
truth and error. You would not reward or punish 
an inanimate object or a mere soulless animal. Yet 
man is to be rewarded or punished. Very clearly does 
the Bible reveal this. Christ is to pass judgment upon 
our lives. It will be a perfectly fair judgment. It 
will take into consideration our advantages and the 
amount of knowledge we have possessed. It will 



FAITH AND LIFE 



make no mistakes. It will not give praise to actions 
which have proceeded from hypocritical motives, nor 
blame to errors which have been ignorantly com- 
mitted. We must not imagine that a single inflexible 
standard will be made the measure by which all shall 
be gauged, or that the judgment of God is a procrus- 
tean bed into which all shall be fitted. 

All these provisions for fair decision imply that 
God treats us as intelligent and moral beings, upon 
whom he throws responsibility, partly, at least, in 
order that we may be developed. We all know 
how earthly responsibilities develop men. They 
either develop or crush them. If a man prove equal 
to his position, he grows in power. The sense of its 
worth calls out his energies. The foresight of its con- 
sequences makes him rise to its requirements. The 
responsibilities of life — from which, perhaps, in our 
weaker moments, we would like to fly — are the means 
of our personal culture, without which we should ever 
remain Hke children in the nursery. So our responsi- 
bility to God is meant to bring us out. It is the 
recognition by Him of our spiritual natures, of our 
likeness to Himself ; and we may most confidently 
affirm that nothing could take the place of responsi- 
bility in leading man into a really noble life. 

Nor should I fail to point out in this connection the 
evident purpose of God's requiring of us all personal 
work of some kind in this world. The necessity of 



GOD'S EDUCATION OF HIS CHILDREN 315 

work is absolute for man. No one is exempt, al- 
though the kind of work required differs greatly in 
different cases. This is a working world. The com- 
mand to work was not given after, but before, the fall. 
In Eden itself our first parents were provided with 
employment. So in the kingdom of Christ, work 
is distributed to every servant. " To every man his 
work," said the Lord Himself. Under this we are to 
include our secular occupations. They are the posts 
assigned to us by Providence, and are quite as truly 
required of us as our more spiritual toil can be. Under 
this are to be included home duties likewise. Then to 
these are to be added spiritual work — work for Christ in 
our own souls and in the world. Viewed thus largely 
there is no exemption from the necessity of work. 
We must not separate the different kinds of work, as 
though God gave some and not others. They are all 
alike our work, the duties laid on us in our various 
relations. They are all, therefore, the means of train- 
ing. And this is, perhaps, their chief object in God's 
sight. 

Certainly God could carry on His own universe 
without our cooperation. He does not need laborers 
in His vineyard. He could put His own money to 
interest without entrusting it to the care of His ser- 
vants. But then they would not be developed. For this, 
too, is the means of bringing out our powers. If you 
want to help a man, the best thing you can do for him 



3i6 



FAITH AND LIFE 



is to give him work. Merely to put money into his 
pocket is apt to do more harm than good, though it 
is far easier. But work will help him more. It 
will not merely support, but improve him. It will 
make a man of him : and, if he be worth aiding at all, 
he will be far more grateful for a situation than for a 
gratuity. Hence you see God's object. It matters lit- 
tle what the work be, so that we do it, and do it well. 
We become co-workers with him. The labor of life is 
not a curse but a blessing, if we engage in it with 
right aims. It is meant to mature us ; to call out our 
faculties ; to develop our patience and our endurance ; 
and to test the spirit that is in us ; and from a working 
life of some sort we should not desire to be relieved. 

Finally, notice the light cast by this truth on 
the troubles and sufferings which God permits to 
befall us. That these are part of our training we are 
expressly taught. They are not sent in anger; for 
whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth, and scourgeth 
every son whom He receiveth. Nor are they mere 
accidents of life, without purpose and uncontrolled ; 
for though a man " fall, he shall not be utterly cast 
down : for the Lord upholdeth him with His hand." 
We should not, indeed, belittle God's purposes by 
supposing that our individual benefit is the main object 
in all the trials of life. On the contrary. His purposes 
are vaster. He is dealing with many children at the 
same time, and one event will often have a score of 



GOD'S EDUCATION OF HIS CHIIDREN 317 

purposes. But neither should we go to the other ex- 
treme, and think that these trials have no individual 
worth and meaning for us. That they have is proved 
by what they may effect. For there is a strength won 
from suffering superior, ofttimes, to any other. Our 
falls and failures may make us wiser and stronger 
than ever success could have done. Our losses and 
bereavements may, by being humbly borne, produce 
a spiritual vigor, a spirituality of mind, which never 
would have bloomed under the constant sunshine of 
prosperity. Many a man has had reason to say, with 
David, " Before I was afflicted I went astray ; but now 
have I kept Thy word." 

Purification by fire is oftentimes the only way of 
separating gold from dross. The strength which 
comes by resisting the temptation to rebel and 
complain ; the faith which is exercised in darkness 
and grief; the love which gleams through tears, 
are developments of character the purest and best. 
Of these the Master sufferer is the great example. 
It is written of Him that though He were a Son, 
yet learned He obedience by the things which He 
suffered. He was perfected by suffering. Even He 
needed this education : not, indeed, for the purpose 
of purifying Him, for He was always pure, but for 
the purpose of enabling Him to perform the work of 
man's redemption. Thus even trial is part of our 
education. It, too, is due to God's recognition of our 



3i8 



FAITH AND LIFE 



spiritual natures. It is the mark of our sonship, for 
by it God would fit us to share the life and glory of 
His greater Son. 

Such, then, are some of the signs of God's desire to 
develop His children. There is not one of these facts 
of life under which we do not sometimes repine. We 
would even like to be relieved of our freedom, for 
we shrink from its tremendous responsibilities. We 
would Hke to be manufactured by magic into saints, 
without the peril and labor of learning the truth and 
following it. Fain would we escape work, and still 
more gladly would we fly from trouble. But think 
what these things mean. The eagle is teaching her 
young to fly. They must acquire the use of wings. 
They must be pushed out of the nest which overhangs 
the precipice that, perforce, they may exercise their 
powers. Otherwise they will never soar into the azure, 
nor fly with the boldness which belongs to them into 
the sun. So a father would teach his children to live. 
He wants to make men and women of them. He 
does not like to keep them forever in the nursery. 
He wants to see them taking their places in the world, 
exercising their faculties, becoming his own equals and 
friends. And thus our God would do. 

If it were a mere matter of power, God could make 
a race of perfect souls at any time. But it is a matter 
of love also, of joy in the growing life of His children 
in their progress upward and toward Himself. Do 



GOD'S EDUCATION OF HIS CHILDREN 319 

you say, you would rather be excused ? You do not 
want to be educated ? You have no desire to rise ? 
You can escape it if you will ; but if you do, you sink 
away from life, and happiness, and peace. It is part of 
your spiritual birthright to be trained : and though in 
hours of weakness we may shrink from the process, 
yet, surely, in a better moment we shall give thanks 
that the unseen Teacher has us in hand, and that, by 
His guidance, even we, weak and worthless as we may 
be, shall grow into the glorious life of the children 
of God. 

And that we may not fear, I bid you note the other 
fact in God's education of His children, which I sug- 
gested, but which I can now only mention, without 
expanding it as I should like to do. I mean His work 
of protection. Quite beautifully does the figure of the 
eagle teaching her young to fly illustrate this. "As an 
eagle," said Moses, " stirreth up her nest " — there is 
the compulsion to flight, the necessity of development. 
And now follows the emblem of protection : " fluttereth 
over her young, spreadeth abroad her wings, taketh 
them, beareth them on her wings ; so the Lord alone 
did lead him, and there was no strange god with him." 
Here we have a picture of the parent bird first forc- 
ing her young to fly; and then hovering about them 
lest they fall, spreading her strong, broad wings beneath 
them when they are weary : at once casting them on 
themselves and upholding them lest they perish. 



320 



FAITH AND LIFE 



You see how provision is made for our weakness. 
If life were but a stern education, it would be hard 
indeed. If God merely cast us forth to develop our 
faculties by struggle and toil, we should no doubt 
often go down into the dust. But in the exquisite 
figure of the text both sides of His care are equally 
presented. The father would have his son become 
a strong, well developed, well educated man ; but he 
does not, therefore, send him out into the world, 
without sympathy or aid, to make his own way. 
He is ever ready to protect and help, as may be 
wise. Thus the highest result will be obtained, and 
God's children may know that, while He would de- 
velop them into a strong, mature, GodHke life, He is 
always by their side lest they fall. 

For God is always with us. Unseen, He sees ; un- 
heard. He hears ; unfelt. He upholds. The sense of 
this divine presence may of itself quicken our own 
powers. Even the one who has wandered farthest 
need not, Hke the prodigal, think of his father as away 
in a distant home. That was true only in the story. 
In fact the Father is always near. When we work. 
He works in us, and the heart of the believer may 
teem with new energy when mindful of the everlast- 
ing arms that are underneath and round about him 
at all times. 

For God's presence means His watchfulness and 
sympathy. He is not present as an unconscious 



GOD'S EDUCATION OF HIS CHILDREN 32 I 



force or as a careless observer. He is not present 
as nature is — who folds us in a cold embrace. He 
is not present as men are, to criticize as much as to 
help. He is present at every moment, and in every 
place, in all the fullness of His personal love. " I am 
poor and needy, yet the Lord thinketh upon me." 
This effort to understand His truth, and to follow it, 
He does not fail to see, and to encourage. This 
brave acceptance of responsibility awakens at once His 
sympathy, and leads Him to instill into feeble hearts 
hearty strength. This obedient performance of duty, 
this meek acceptance of sorrow, are all observed by 
Him — and as our day is, so shall our strength be. 

Yes, in this perilous affair of our spiritual growth — 
exposed as we are to enemies, unused as we are to 
such attempts, childish as our power and wisdom must 
appear — He is protecting that our education may pro- 
ceed. If He compel us to meet temptation, He will 
not allow it to be greater than we can bear. If He 
force us out of our quiet retreats into the stern, 
hard, weary battle of life. He covers us with His 
shield, and puts vigor into our arms and a sword 
into our hands. If He send grievous sorrow, if 
He lead through fierce mental conflicts, if pain 
must be our lesson and the rod our instructor, 
nevertheless, His protection fails not. Ah ! this is 
true education. It combines protection with devel- 
opment, and I take it that as the evident facts of 
21 



322 



FAITH AND LIFE 



freedom, and responsibility, and work, and sufifering 
prove that God would really develop our souls into 
perfect fellowship with Himself; so the experience 
of His people as plainly testifies that throughout the 
whole process, however long. He is their shield, 
their refuge, and their strength. 

I pray you, therefore, to accept this great lesson of 
life. What is more common than for people to put 
themselves under the training of a master — be it in 
art, or science, or trade ? Do we not need even more 
sorely a master in the art of living ? Shall we not put 
ourselves with confidence into the hand of the divine 
Master, who knows all, and will lead us into the light? 
We must needs be docile. We must believe in His 
wisdom where we cannot understand. We must needs 
be ready to receive new Hght, and progress from stage 
to stage, from class to class. We must keep the eye 
single, the soul pure and true. We must follow our 
guide even when He leads us through dangerous pas- 
sages — or, what is harder still — when in the dark we 
see Him not and only hear His voice. 

But if our acceptance of Him has been sincere, we 
need not fear the issue. He will both protect and 
develop us, until at last we shall mount upon wings 
as eagles, shall enter on that perfect life for which 
all here has been a preparation, and shall do the 
works, and have the knowledge, and exercise the 
powers of the glorified sons of God. 



XVIII 



OUT OF THE DEPTHS 
" Out of the depths have I cried unto Thee, O Lord." — Psalm cxxx. i. 

What is more instinctively condemned or felt to 
be more unworthy than a superficial life ? It is a life 
which, as the word imports, is contented to float on 
the surface of things. A superficial examination of a 
subject is one which does not go to the foundations ; 
which does not critically sift the matter in hand ; 
which embraces in its survey merely the most obvious 
facts which none can fail to see. Such an examination 
is not worthy of the name. A superficial character is 
one that is governed by hasty judgments and regard 
for the nearest objects and most immediate interests ; 
one that has not felt the force of permanent and radi- 
cal principles, but is content to take its beliefs from 
hearsay and to regulate its conduct by impulse or 
unreasoning desire. And a superficial life is the out- 
come of such a character. It either cannot or will 
not face the real problems of existence. It does not 
realize the profound sea of mystery over which it gaily 
voyages, nor think of the illimitable heights that are 
above it. It lives, so to speak, from hand to mouth. 
It does not feel anything strongly. It is completely 

323 



324 



FAITH AND LIFE 



absorbed in the moving panorama which passes before 
its eyes, and does not inquire concerning the hidden 
ropes and pulleys which make it move. The play 
and work of each day command its entire attention. 
Even sorrow does not profoundly agitate it. It lives 
its little span of life, in short, upon the surface of 
things ; and, when its span is finished, it sinks into the 
depths which, while living, it never cared seriously to 
contemplate. 

I say, we instinctively condemn such a life when it 
is plainly presented to us. Yet we must be aware 
that multitudes of men and women are living such 
lives. The ease with which many are satisfied with 
the most superficial idea of moral character is shock- 
ing. They take human applause for divine approval, 
and think that if they be, according to the world's 
/ standards, kind and friendly, — if they are guilty of no 

overt crimes, — they need strive for nothing more. 
The heedless diligence with which reasonable but un- 
reasoning beings pursue the making of money as if it 
were the supreme end of existence, and the god on 
whose smile their happiness depends, must seem to 
the spirits that look down upon us as a boy's earnest 
sport seems to full-grown men. The recklessness 
with which many make life a play cannot but appall 
those who see the precipice on the edge of which the 
play goes on. 

It is not strange that such people forget or deny God. 



OUT OF THE DEPTHS 



They do not feel the need of Him. Within their little 
circle He has no place, and the shallowest ideas of 
morals and rehgion prevail. Sometimes this is a willful 
choice of the temporal instead of the eternal. Some- 
times it is due to mere feebleness of character, to inabil- 
ity to do more than float with the current. In spite 
of the centuries of religion, in spite of an uneasy con- 
sciousness of wrong, in spite of the repeated spectacle 
of death, in spite of the occasional glances which they 
cannot but give downward and upward, experience 
shows that it is only too possible for men and women 
to content themselves with Hving on the surface, and 
to refuse to grapple seriously with the hidden but ever 
present realities of man's existence. 

It is in the light of this that I would read with 
you this verse of an ancient psalm. We have repre- 
sented in it the exact opposite of a superficial life. 
We see a man who in some way had sunk below the 
surface, had seen and felt things which were not visible 
on top, had faced the profound facts which the super- 
ficial mind does not even perceive. There he had 
found God. There he had felt the need of God. 
There he had raised his prayer and had received an 
answer to it. " Out of the depths," he says, " have I 
cried unto Thee, O Lord." And from this deep ex- 
perience he had emerged with a strength of faith and 
a sense of the moral realities of life which he had never 
had before. I would like to remind you of the depths 



326 



FAITH AND LIFE 



which we may and often must fathom, and the oppor- 
tunities they afford for our laying hold upon Him 
who is the Light in our darkness and the Rock beneath 
the shifting waves of time. 

It does not really require anything more than a 
simple effort of thought to enable us to sink below 
the surface and find ourselves in what may be truly 
called " the depths." A superficial life, if it thinks 
at all, knows itself to be superficial ; for the simplest 
questions raised by the mind carry it into the realm 
of profound things. We have only to ask ourselves 
whence came we here, why are we here, whence came 
the world about us, why does it exist at all, in order 
to discover ourselves in the immediate presence of the 
very mystery of life, and oppressed by the necessity 
of going below the surface to find an explanation of it. 
These questions no man can help asking. They are 
not curious speculations. They are inevitably raised 
by the facts of daily experience. Only by shutting 
the mind's eye and deliberately remaining bhnd can 
we prevent their being forced upon us. 

Thus it is a natural thing to ask whence we came. 
We cannot help assuming that everything in the 
world has had a cause. We can see the beginnings 
of most things, and we have never known anything to 
come into existence of itself We cannot conceive, 
indeed, of such a thing. For ourselves, we know 
that we began to be ; and, thus, the moment we begin 



OUT OF THE DEPTHS 327 

to think we find ourselves face to face with the neces- 
sity of accounting for the orign of the world and of 
ourselves as part of it. We are very sure, too, that 
the cause, whatever it is, must have been competent 
to produce the effect. We cannot suppose that a 
plant is produced by the soil out of which it grows ; 
for the plant is a living thing, while the soil is not. 
So we cannot beHeve that the human mind has been 
produced by a chance collection of particles of matter ; 
for the mind thinks, and matter does not think. Thus 
by a very few steps we go below the surface, and 
realize that we and the world must be the product of 
something or some person greater than we or it ; that 
there must be some invisible Being back of the visible 
panorama ; and that, in all probability, our relations to 
this Being, who must be the Cause of all, are far more 
important than are our relations to the visible people 
and things which we meet upon the surface. 

Then, if we go a little farther down, and ask our- 
selves why we are, the mystery of life instantly grows 
even more profound. For man feels himself to be 
at once very little and very great. He is very little 
in comparison with the immense universe — a mere 
drop in the ocean of being — a mere atom in a meas- 
ureless world of existence. He is physically very 
weak. His present life hangs upon a mere thread. 
He comes up like a flower and is cut down. In the 
morning it flourishes and grows up ; in the evening 



328 



FAITH AND LIFE 



it is cut down and withers. His life is as a vapor, 
which appears for a httle while, and then vanishes 
away. Yet he is very great. He knows himself, 
which is more than even the mighty world about him 
does. He reasons. He can with his feeble hand 
chain the Hghtning and defy the storm. He can 
harness the forces of nature and drive them with his 
childish hands. He can rise to the idea of God ; can 
know and love Him ; and, despite his physical weak- 
ness, can be unconquerable in soul. As Pascal said, 
" He is a reed, the weakest thing in nature, but he is a 
reed that thinks." Although in one view he is utterly 
insignificant, in another view he is supremely great. 
When we look at these facts, the question. Why are 
we here? attains profound importance. A superficial 
answer is at once felt to be false. If at one moment 
/ we are inclined to say that it does not make much dif- 

ference what we are or what we do ; at another 
moment we feel that, with such power and capacities, 
we must be working out a sublime programme ; must 
be only making preparation here for a higher condi- 
tion ; must be meant for some purpose commensurate 
with the dignity of the soul. 

Thus, you see, it requires but the slightest effort 
of thought to lead us into the depths ; to make 
a superficial life appear absurdly irrational ; to make 
us realize that unless we seek to give some answer to 
these primary questions which are forced upon the 



OUT OF THE DEPTHS 



mind, we are guilty of deliberate recklessness. I do 
not know how often or how seriously these questions 
have come home to you. Possibly they may seem to 
you useless speculations, and you may have banished 
them by turning to what you call the practical duties 
of life. Possibly you may have taken shelter under the 
convenient plea that we cannot know anything about 
ulterior facts or immaterial causes ; and may have 
for a while complacently dismissed the matter from 
your thought. But if so, you must, at least, confess 
that you are living on the surface, and that the fathom- 
less depths are under you. Beyond doubt your care- 
lessness or your agnosticism can last only for a time. 
Into the depths you must sink, if not now by thought, 
hereafter by death; and it surely is not becoming a 
rational being to refuse to face the questions which 
are thus forced upon his mind by the simplest action 
of his reason. 

These inquiries are of almost oppressive magnitude. 
A man may dull his sense of them by absorption in 
work or pleasure, but I do not understand how any- 
body can fail to see that such dullness is the natural 
result of a mental anaesthetic. A man may find serious 
and real difficulties in the subject of religion ; but I do 
not see how he can fail to find greater difficulties in 
any life which does not seriously attack these funda- 
mental questions. It also seems certain that in these 
depths of mystery, into which the simplest thought 



330 



FAITH AND LIFE 



takes us, the most reasonable thing is to call upon 
God. Does not He present that solution of the mys- 
tery of human life which, taking it all in all, is the 
m.ost satisfactory to the mind itself? The agnostic says 
there is no solution possible, and he says this because 
not everything is clear and plain : somewhat as a child 
who, because he cannot get all he wants, says he will 
take nothing. The materialist says all is the bHnd re- 
sult of physical force acting mechanically ; and hence 
he must conclude that the seeming greatness of man 
is a delusion, and that as he came by chance into 
existence, he will vanish after a while into dust. But 
does not this answer raise more difficulties than ever, 
and make larger demands on our credulity than ever 
religion did? We have about as much reason to 
think that life and mind came out of matter as we 
have to suppose that two and two ever made five. 

On the other hand, the belief in God provides at 
least a rational, thinkable explanation. It provides a 
cause adequate to produce the effects with which we 
are concerned. It supplies an origin for the mind of 
man, which accounts for his powers and gives hopes 
to his heart ; explaining both his littleness and his 
greatness. I do not say that faith in God explains 
everything to us. But is it not, to say the least, the 
most probable explanation ? Does it not throw more 
light on life than any other theory ? It is most reason- 
able out of these depths to call upon him — nothing else 



OUT OF THE DEPTHS 



can satisfy. Nothing else can help us. The superficial 
life which forgets God seems utterly false and futile 
when a man begins to think about life. For when the 
real, underlying problems are felt, the supreme neces- 
sity for Him is felt; and in some way nearly every 
man calls upon Him. 

But for one man who sounds the depths of life by 
an effort of thought, a dozen sound them through 
the experience of sorrow and disappointment. Jesus 
said : " Blessed are they that mourn : for they shall 
be comforted." Whatever else the words may mean, 
they imply at least that there is more blessedness 
in being comforted than in not mourning at all. Yet, 
certainly, He did not regard sorrow and trouble as 
good in themselves. He came to relieve and end 
them. He came to bring peace and rest to earth. 
Nevertheless, He knew that, as men are, the deepest 
lessons of life will not be learned except through a 
more or less bitter experience, and that the sweetest 
joys and the highest truths will come to humanity 
only through the sad instructress, sorrow. 

We know only too well that a happy, pros- 
perous, successful life is apt to become super- 
ficial. Let there be no disappointments to speak 
of; let there be for many years no great bereave- 
ment ; let there be no hard struggle for bread or for 
pleasure; and man is apt to miss entirely the chief 
ends of life's discipline. His course will run glit- 



332 



FAITH AND LIFE 



tering like a brook in the open sunshine," — bright, 
but shallow; pretty, but not deep. He is likely to 
have but little sympathy ; for we must know somewhat 
of the ills of life in order to help others through them. 
He is hkely even to become hard in his judgments, 
skeptical in his opinions. Men talk of gratitude for 
blessings as a stimulus to faith, but it may be doubted 
whether trials and crosses do not furnish a greater 
stimulus. The happy hfe is apt to be a careless one. 
Supplies that come easily awaken no great sense of 
gratitude. Were we to imagine all the sorrows ban- 
ished from man's experience, all trials prevented, all 
disappointments forestalled, and man left at the same 
time in the same moral condition in which he now is, 
we should see a world forgetful of spiritual things, 
heedless of divine realities and moral responsibilities ; 
a world of singing birds and gorgeous butterflies, 
but not a world of either great thought or lofty 
aspiration. 

Freedom from sorrow is promised us in heaven 
only on the assumption that there we shall be holy 
enough not to need it. Tears shall there be wiped 
from all faces because the moral necessity for tears 
shall have been overcome. Happiness in external 
things shall be attained because the internal conditions 
of it have been first possessed. But as man now is, 
it does not take much observation to see that entire 
freedom from trouble would tend only to make him 



OUT OF THE DEPTHS 



333 



satisfied with the superficial Hfe of a well-fed body 
and a cultivated mind. 

So Providence does not permit us to live such 
lives. Again and again are we compelled to go 
down into the depths. The crust breaks. The 
pleasant, easy life is rudely interrupted, and man 
sinks, burdened by a weight of woe, into the abyss 
below him. Then his views of hfe change. In the 
bitterness of disappointment over the failure of his 
dearest hopes he feels the vanity of the common pur- 
suits which the world is so earnestly following. He 
understands, if ever, that the real end of life cannot 
consist in the enjoyment of earthly gains ; he realizes 
that if satisfaction is ever to be found, it must spring 
from causes lying deeper far than the relationships 
which this world provides. Keen sorrow enters his 
home, and under the blight of loss his heart seems to 
be swallowed up by grief He wonders why tender 
affection should be created to be thus rudely broken ; 
why he should be made the apparent sport of misfor- 
tune and calamity. These are depths which all have 
to fathom. The experience comes in different forms, 
but it comes to all. Oh, the depths of pain and an- 
guish over which in prosperous days we glide ! Oh, 
the terrible convulsions of grief, of which we are 
capable, into which we may be plunged ; the deep, 
dark passages of life which make a mockery of the 
work and play which proceed on the upper surface ! 



334 



FAITH AND LIFE 



Blessed, indeed, is he who can wrest from these 
grievous hours a divine lesson, so finding in them a 
balm as well as a calamity, and good even amid the 
evil. 

This, at least, is clear — that in the depths of sor- 
row men always feel the need of God, even if they 
do not love Him or submit to Him. Sorrow, of 
course, affects men differently, just as the same warm 
sunlight falling on a plant with little root will wither 
it, but falling on another plant, whose roots run deeply 
into the rich soil beneath it, will cause it to flourish and 
be beautiful with bloom. So some men are crushed 
and hardened by their troubles ; others are sanctified 
and blessed, according as the life is or is not strong 
with faith and the desire for spiritual attainment. But 
this is true of all — whatever the effects may be — that 
in the depth of the dark, gloomy passages of hfe all 
feel the need of God. The rebellious sufferer cries 
out for God to set things right. The patient sufferer 
no less feels his need of help, and looks for it to come. 
But all feel the same need. The impotence of man is 
now manifest. The dependence of the human spirit 
on something greater than itself or than the world is 
plain. The vanity of the superficial life, with its lying 
promises, its fading beauty, its broken pledges, its 
mockery of strength, appears as a thin, unsubstantial 
fact. The need of God becomes imperative. 

See now what human life is, how utterly lost and 



OUT OF THE DEPTHS 



335 



undone if there be no mighty Helper, no loving Father, 
no pitying Christ. Down in the depths the suffering 
soul instinctively reaches out its hands, even though 
manacled by doubt — instinctively raises its voice, even 
though bitter with rebeUion — for God, for nothing less 
than God, for God as the only One sufficient for the 
awful needs of the lonely, failing heart. Such depths 
are places of revelation. They show what even the 
common superficial life needs, though it may not be 
aware of it. They bid us know our real Helper, that 
when we rise again to the common level we may not 
forget the supreme lesson taught us by this glimpse, 
through tears, into the tremendous realities of life. 
Woe to that man who in prosperous times forgets the 
lesson. If out of the depths you have called upon 
God, then remember Him and honor Him when on 
the mountain top and in the clear sunshine. You 
need Him then just as much. Your sorrow was but 
the means of showing you what common life should 
always bear in mind, for He who appears as man's only 
refuge and strength in times of trouble is not less his 
lawful Lord, his profoundest need, at every moment 
and in every circumstance of life. 

While thought and sorrow thus let men down into 
the depths of life, and show them their need of God, 
yet neither of these appears to explain the particular 
experience of the Psalmist when he cried, " Out of the 
depths have I cried unto thee, O Lord." That which 



33^ 



FAITH AND LIFE 



had broken through the crust of a superficial life in his 
case was conviction of sin. This is plain from the fol- 
lowing language of the Psalmist ; for he adds, " If 
thou, Lord, shouldest mark iniquities, O Lord, who 
shall stand ? But there is forgiveness with Thee, that 
Thou mayest be feared." His conscience had been 
awakened. He had realized the enormity of sin. His 
accuser had stood before him, charging him with 
faults enough to condemn him forever. He had seen 
that he was full of sin, burdened with guilt, in immi- 
nent danger of punishment. He sank into the depths, 
overwhelmed by fear, beholding the justice of God 
and His power to inflict penalty, swallowed up in 
despair and the conciousness of guilt. Now the pleas- 
ant life of the every day world seemed a mockery 
indeed. It appeared to be the laughter of a criminal 
awaiting execution, the blind and foolish play of men 
hastening to death, the impious sport carried on under 
the shadow of the overhanging sword. The soul had 
awakened to a sense of what sin is — of what it means 
to the sinner and to God — and in the depth of this 
conviction it cried for the One who alone can forgive 
and save. 

This shows us a depth over which the super- 
ficial life is always passing — which it often will not 
believe in — but which when entered discloses more 
vividly the moral reality of things than even thought 
or sorrow does. How insensible men are to the real 



OUT OF THE DEPTHS 



337 



significance of sin ! They admit that there is sin in 
the world, for they cannot shut their eyes to the fact. 
They admit that they are faulty ; for their failure to 
fulfil all their human duty is so patent that the most 
delusive theories and the most pleasant dreams cannot 
altogether deceive them. But the superficial life does 
not see the significance of sin. It treats sin as a venial 
fault — some defect of blood or some disease — which has 
even an attractive as well as a disagreeable side. For 
the most part it quite condones it. It does not allow 
it to cause discomfort. It does not allow sin to lessen 
its enjoyment of nature, its delight in society, its ma- 
terial pleasures, its pursuit of ambitious schemes. So 
the shallow world hastens on in its selfish career, quite 
unmindful of what the occasional stings of conscience 
mean, what its uneasy dread of death forebodes. 

But let the crust break, let the conscience awaken, 
let the living soul, laden with its guilt, go down 
into the depths of an aroused moral conviction. 
What then does it behold ? It sees itself under 
sentence by the Almighty ! Sin is transgression of 
His law. It is hideous in itself and hateful in His 
sight. It now is seen to have infected the whole life ; 
to have shut God out of our thought, to have 
ahenated us from our true Master, exiled us from our 
true home. It is seen to contain in itself the power 
of endless death, to be a relentless tyrant inflicting the 
penalty of eternal justice on the sinner, to be leading 

22 



338 



FAITH AND LIFE 



its victims to the woes and the misery of hell itself. 
What an awakening ! What a spectacle ! Yet it is 
most real. It is a revelation of truth. It shows in 
truest form the moral reality of things, and when a 
man finds himself in the power of sin, knows that it 
has seized and bewitched him, and beholds what God 
must think of his condition, and how, of necessity, 
He must condemn him, he has sounded the depths 
indeed. 

Then must he call upon God alone. Then he sees 
that no one can save him but God. He feels as never 
before his need of salvation. He asks only for for- 
giveness. His sins roll over his memory Hke great 
ocean billows. Every evil deed points its finger of 
condemnation at him. Whither shall he flee but to 
God himself? Blessed it is to hear in the depths of 
an awakened conscience the voice of one who speaks 
to men in such a state with the authority of God, and 
says, "There is forgiveness with Thee, that Thou 
mayest be feared." Ay, there is forgiveness ! It was 
these sins for which God's Son offered sacrifice at 
Calvary. It was these accusing voices which He pro- 
posed to hush when the Redeemer cried, " Father for- 
give them." The love of God gleams out in Jesus 
Christ like the sun through the darkness, reaching 
down even to the depths in which conviction plunges 
a man ; and whispers in his ear, " Though your sins 
be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow." Out of 



OUT OF THE DEPTHS 



339 



such an experience a man learns what God and Christ 
are with a distinctness which no other instruction can 
possibly impart. 

I ask you if you have sounded the depths of life 
in any of these ways ? Much of our lives must be 
passed upon the surface, but I adjure you not to forget 
the depths below and their revelations. Do not be 
deceived by the temporal and the visible. In your 
hearts you know that need of God which is disclosed 
by the profound moments of thought and sorrow ; 
and conscience discovers the reality — that by which 
you must live — that which you will have to face. Be 
guided then by these discoveries. If in the depths 
you have cried unto the Lord, then in every day hfe 
make Him your God, your Master, your Saviour. I 
plead for this, knowing that however for a while the 
deceiving superficial life may continue, in the end you 
must deal with the unseen realities. I plead for a real 
faith, for true contrition and confession, for self dedi- 
cation unto God. Will you not heed the pleading, 
that when you sink into the depths you may find 
God mxcrciful, forgiving, faithful, and true, waiting to 
sustain, to receive, to save you ? He is your need, 
your supreme need. I beseech you, in Christ's name, 
be ye reconciled to Him. 



XIX 



MANY MANSIONS 

" In my Father's house are many mansions : if it were not so, I would 
have told you. I go to prepare a place for you." — John xiv. 2. 

The disciples of Jesus were utterly dazed by the 
thought of His departure from them ; or, if they had 
not yet realized that He was really going away, He 
knew that they would be dazed when the event took 
place. Separation from the Master seemed to them 
the destruction of all that had made life worth Hving. 
It left them exposed to the hatred of the world, with- 
out the protection which Christ's power and personal 
presence had always afforded. It left them to do a 
work which even He, in their view, had not yet 
succeeded in doing. It left them bewildered by the 
apparent triumph of His enemies. It left them lonely 
for the want of His dear companionship ; helpless for 
the want of His never-failing power ; ignorant, fearful, 
and doubting. So long as they knew Him to be with 
them, they could safely and confidently go forward; 
but, separated from Him, they were Hkely to be lost 
in a maze of doubt and fear. They could at least 
appreciate the truth of what He said, " Apart from Me 
ye can do nothing." We cannot better grasp the won- 

341 



342 



FAITH AND LIFE 



derful superiority of Jesus to His age and His fellow- 
men than by considering the fact that even those who 
were nearest to Him, and whom He had taught the 
longest, felt themselves helpless when He left them. 

These words which Jesus spoke to comfort and 
encourage His disciples have become of supreme 
worth and joy to all believers ever since. For we all 
have to face substantially the same crisis in which 
the first disciples found themselves. Humanity is 
dazed and bewildered by the universal fact of death, 
whether we think of it as threatening ourselves or 
those we love. Men start on grand careers only to 
find them leading to the inevitable prison-house. Men 
enter upon sweet and ennobling relationships only to 
find them rudely dissolved by the inexorable hand. 
The best plans are thwarted by it; the noblest lives 
are overcome by it ; the most useful servants of God 
and humanity are remorselessly and often, to our 
mind, inopportunely cut down. Hence these disciples 
of Jesus, cowering under the shadow of the coming 
tragedy, were types of all mankind, and the words of 
Christ to them are of equal value to us. He alone 
saw beyond the shadow. He alone knew both worlds, 
— the one beyond the veil and this. At no time did 
He speak with more imperial dignity, — more obviously 
with the knowledge of divinity itself, — than when He 
forgot His own impending sorrow in commiseration of 
theirs, and told them what, from His loftier position, 



MANY MANSIONS 



343 



He could see. As one standing on a mountain summit 
may describe to the inhabitants of the valley below the 
glorious landscape which he beholds, and in the wealth 
and beauty of which both are to share, so did Jesus 
speak to us these memorable words of comfort and 
cheer. 

Let me examine with you, then, these words of 
Christ simply with the purpose of setting forth as 
much as possible of what they contain. 

In my Father's house. He said, are many man- 
sions, or places of abode. He had just said: ''Let 
not your heart be troubled : ye believe in God, be- 
lieve also in Me " ; and then He added this in order, 
it would seem, to give His disciples a definite and 
tangible object on which to fix their hope, without 
which faith could not exist at all. It appears to me, 
however, that these words have been often misunder- 
stood. Evidently, the emphatic word in the sentence 
is " many." But if so, and if, as on the common 
view, the Father's house be understood to refer to 
heaven alone, it is difficult to see the appropriateness 
of the words to the disciples' needs. The fact that in 
heaven there are many places of abode, many homes 
for many people, many grades of glory for many 
kinds of saints, is doubtless true. But how this could 
comfort the disciples in view of Christ's departure 
does not so easily appear. What would comfort them 
would be the clear revelation of the other world itself 



344 



FAITH AND LIFE 



and of Christ's continued relationship to them, though 
gone into that other world; and this we may judge, 
from all the connected verses, was the truth which 
He sought to impress upon their minds. 

It would seem, therefore, that by His Father's house 
Jesus did not mean merely the future abode of the 
blest. Give the phrase a larger meaning, and the force 
of His comfort will be more plain. He had called the 
temple, you remember. His Father's house, saying 
to the tradesmen whom He drove from its sacred 
precincts, " Make not My Father's house a house of 
merchandise." What more natural, then, than for Him 
to regard the whole universe itself, of which, in one 
sense, the temple was a type, as His Father's house ? 
Such, in fact, it is. God no more dwells merely in 
the heaven of heavens than in temples made by hands. 
The whole universe is filled with His presence, and 
has been created by Him to be the place where His 
children shall dwell in companionship with Himself 
Jesus, though despised and rejected of men, was at 
home in the world with God. Did He not evince the 
greatest familiarity with nature, gathering from her 
processes His illustrations of divine things ? He had 
no quarrel with nature or with matter. He had a quar- 
rel only with sin. The universe was still His Father's 
house. He implied as much when He told the 
Samaritan woman that no place was more sacred 
than another, but that in all alike the true worshiper 



MANY MANSIONS 



345 



would be accepted. Hence, in His intercourse with 
His disciples, He had brought heaven down to earth, 
and they had found in their relationship with Him 
that which made life seem worthy of everlasting con- 
tinuance. 

Thus I understand that the Lord meant by His 
" Father's house " the whole vast universe ; and if so, 
the point of His comfort to the disciples becomes clear. 
" In my Father's house, He said, are many mansions." 
Do not suppose that this world is all, or that beyond 
the veil, even the blessedness and joy of this world 
will not be surpassed. You have found a home here. 
You have found God here. You have here learned 
that it is possible to dwell with God. But this is 
only one mansion and there are many more. You 
have entered only the first. There are myriads that 
you have not seen. Do not, therefore, tremble if I 
leave you. This world is not the whole of the stage 
on which redemption is to be wrought out. Do not 
think that death is dissolution to the soul, or that its 
personal and spiritual relationship to God will be 
affected by death. If such had been the case I would 
certainly have told you, and my course of instruction 
would have been very different. This world is but 
one place of abode with God. There are innumerably 
more, and only with these in thought can you realize 
the worth and promise of a Christian life. 

No doubt the false astronomy of that day made it 



346 



FAITH AND LIFE 



somewhat more difficult for the disciples than for us to 
grasp the scope of the Saviour's words. At any rate, 
with our clearer knowledge of the physical universe 
fresh force is given to His language. We know that 
ours is but one of countless worlds, that the Father's 
house contains mansions upon mansions, in tiers in- 
numerable : and with every increase of power in the 
lenses of our telescopes, the bounds of God's great 
temple have been placed further off. It is quite possible 
too that even within the space occupied by the visible 
universe another exists, and that the veil of gross 
matter hides from our knowledge a world into which 
only the released spirit finds admission. We are in 
a universe of mystery, into which both faith and science 
peer with equal right and with equal profit, and while 
neither faith nor science can claim to know more than 
" but in part," both testify, in confirmation of Christ's 
words, that our present abiding place is but the vesti- 
bule of a world the vastness and the possibilities of 
which are beyond our power to imagine. 

Thus He who had come down from heaven and had 
brought heaven with Him to the earth ; He who re- 
membered the glory which He had had with the 
Father before the world was ; He who had manifested 
God's glory on earth to the men who had been given 
Him out of the world, — pointed His disciples to the 
vast universe of being which they could not see, but 
which He could see, and bade them believe that the 



MANY MANSIONS 



347 



happy life which they had begun with Him on earth 
would reach beyond death and separation, and find its 
increasing fruition in other realms, which will be but 
other apartments in our heavenly Father's house. 

I beg you to notice, before we pass on, what direction 
these words of Christ give to our thoughts of both 
life and death. On the one hand, He did not under- 
value the life in this world. Men who think much 
of the future are apt to undervalue the present. Some 
fancy that the present is wholly evil and that no en- 
joyment is to be properly found here. But Christ did 
not so think or teach. He assured us that this world 
is one of the mansions in our Father's house, and 
that it is possible to enjoy here true pleasure and 
real divine companionship. A little later He said : 
" If a man love me, he will keep my words : and my 
Father will love him, and we will come unto him, and 
make our abode with him." So He said, " Abide in 
me, and I in you." Thus earth may be a mansion of 
God if we abide with Him and He with us. It is 
what we make it. To the prodigal it is a far country, 
because his heart is far from God. To the Christian 
it is part of the Father's house, because he dwells 
with God. In a supreme sense did Jesus abide with 
God, and, therefore, in spite of all that He suffered. 
He could still call it His Father's house. Thus by 
faith we may enter heaven even here, and in our fellow- 
ship with God enjoy the thought that we are part of 



348 



FAITH AND LIFE 



His household, have a right to His provisions, and 
are secure in His dwelling. It will make life happier 
and more peaceful, it will give to the world a holier 
beauty, if we hve in it as in our Father's house. 

Then, on the other hand, mark how Jesus thought 
of death and the hereafter. He carried over into the 
hidden world the natural instincts which have been 
here sanctified in Christian life. Men thought of it 
then, as often they do now, as cheerless and phantom- 
like. He thought of it as not losing one jot of the 
sweetness and joy of the present, but divested of every 
trace of present sorrow and pain. It is still our 
Father's house. There, too, are places of abode for 
us. It will be as truly home as any place we have 
ever known. It will realize all that we now hope 
for. In it will culminate the best part of life, while 
there will be no drawbacks. Death is but the pas- 
sage from the lower to the higher mansion. By it we 
lose nothing and gain much. It makes no rupture in 
the life of the soul. The believer is still in his 
Father's house, only taken to another apartment. All 
that is now good will be made better ; and all that 
is now evil will be removed, as through the heavy cur- 
tains which divide this abode from those beyond it, the 
disciple of Jesus goes. Not as pointing us from what 
is bad to what is good ; but as pointing us from what 
is good to what is better, from partial knowledge and 
incipient holiness and the beginning of peace to com- 



MANY MANSIONS 



349 



pleteness of life and to fullness of blessing, did Jesus 
stand on the verge of His own departure and bid us 
have no fear, but rather have hope and eager confi- 
dence. " In my Father's house are many mansions." 
So far from this Hfe exhausting good, it is but the com- 
mencement and the foretaste of greater good to come. 

Having thus assured His disciples of the exist- 
ence of a better home above, the Saviour added, " I go 
to prepare a place for you," and in these words the 
comfort which His previous words had suggested is 
more expressly given. Let us see if we can grasp 
the full purport of the declaration. 

It assured the disciples, for one thing, that their 
departing Lord would not forget them. On the con- 
trary, they would be as much in His thoughts as they 
had been during the three years of His earthly com- 
panionship with them. There w^ould be no severance 
of those precious relations of love and protection 
which they had learned to value so highly. He 
would be still the same, and the friendship of the past 
would be continued in the invisible realm beyond. 
How often to stricken hearts has this thought brought 
comfort ! It is not possible that the human soul 
should blot out the past, or that memory should cease 
to act even amid the transcendent glories of the skies. 
We may be sure that love will not be vanquished by 
death ; that it will only be purified, and will harmonize 
more perfectly with the divine will. We may be sure 



FAITH AND LIFE 



that saints in glory are waiting with eager hope for 
the coming of their friends. Christ is so waiting ; and 
in His heavenly mansion His love is as tender, His 
interest is as keen, His sympathy is as quick, as His 
disciples found it to be on earth. He is " Jesus Christ, 
the same yesterday, and to-day, and forever." 

But His language not only assured the disciples of 
His continued interest in them, but, going further, 
assured them that His chief object in the other world 
would be to work for them. Here His words soar 
quite beyond anything that we can apply to ordinary 
friends. They remind us of the constant activity of 
Christ in behalf of His Church. Do not imagine that 
His work was finished at Calvary, and that He has 
since been merely waiting to enjoy the future triumph. 
Only the sacrifice was there finished. When He 
ascended it was to enter on a far more extended work 
in behalf of His people. His earthly ministry was 
merely the time in which He began to do and to 
teach. Now He is, as Paul says, " Head over all 
things to the Church." He is ruling and defending 
us, restraining and conquering both His and our 
enemies. 

You remember how He is pictured in the Apoca- 
lypse, seated on a white horse, with many crowns upon 
His head, a two-edged sword issuing from His mouth, 
going forth conquering and to conquer. This is a sym- 
boHcal picture of one phase of His activity. He has 



MANY MANSIONS 



not left us to work out our salvation alone. On the 
contrary, it is because He is working for us that we 
succeed at all. A parent's toil suppHes the wants and 
provides for the education of his child, though the 
little one is often quite unconscious of the fact, and is 
busy with the performance of its daily tasks. So 
Christ's activity, though by us unfelt, is the guarantee 
of our life and progress. " Because I live, ye shall live 
also." When He left His Church, it was only that 
in another sphere He might enable the Church to 
reach her glorious destiny. 

Still more specifically. His words indicated not only 
His continued interest in and work for His disciples, 
but the particular object of His work. " I go," He 
said, "to prepare a place for you." It is to the object 
thus specified that our attention should be directed. 
Our Lord, you remember, had been speaking of 
places of abode. He had described the universe as 
the Father's house. He had declared that there are 
many mansions, literally many places of abode, of 
which this world is but one. Now He was going 
to prepare a place for them. All these phrases indi- 
cate that the home of the blessed is to be a material 
locality. Christ did not go to prepare a state for us 
or a mode of being. That is prepared in us, not for 
us. We cannot explain away His phraseology. 

Nor should we desire to do so. We need a place 
to live in, if Hfe is to be worth anything. You know 



352 



FAITH AND LIFE 



how much our happiness and our mental growth in 
this world depend on our surroundings. When our 
religion and our circumstances are in conflict, this 
may indeed be a means of discipline; but this painful 
experience can never be regarded as meant to con- 
tinue always. On the other hand, however, God 
has always provided a place for the development of 
human character. He prepared this earth to be our 
first abode, the place of our probation. Then He 
selected portions of the earth to be the places in 
which the life of humanity should unfold itself under 
His guidance. Eden for Adam, Canaan for Abraham 
and Israel. We need not have the least doubt, there- 
fore, that the same rule will hold good after death. 
The outward and the inward are to correspond, and 
if in this life the soul is being prepared for its future 
home, a future home is as really always being pre- 
pared for the soul. 

Furthermore, Christ's language would seem to 
imply that until He left the world the home of the 
saints had not been prepared. Did it ever occur to 
you that the place whither the souls of Christ's people 
now depart could not have existed, at least in its pres- 
ent form, until after His ascension ? If you ask, Where 
then did the saints of old time go, — Abraham, Moses, 
and the prophets, — we reply that no doubt they went 
to a happy and holy place ; but that there must have 
been a great and glad change for them when Jesus 



MANY MANSIONS 



353 



returned from His work of sacrifice, Victor and King. 
For only then did He make the home of glory ready 
as now it is. The Kingdom had indeed been prepared 
from the foundation of the world; but the place had not. 
Not that He created a new world. He prepared the 
place, He made it ready. In fact, I suppose, He then 
only began to make it ready, and that it is still being 
gloriously prepared. We rightly sing, " He is fitting 
up my mansion." The work of preparation continues 
as the generations come and go, and will be finished 
only when the work of man's salvation shall have 
been brought to its conclusion at the end of the world. 

How, then, are we to understand this work of * 
preparation which Christ is carrying on for His people 
in the place above ? To what did He refer when He 
used this language to those wondering disciples ? 

For one thing, He went to prepare a place for us 
by going and dwelling there Himself Jesus Christ 
is somewhere in the body ; and wherever He is, that 
is the place whither His people are to go, that is the 
home of the redeemed. Simply by dwelling there 
Himself has He done most to prepare it for us. When 
God said, " Let there be light," the work of the prepa- 
ration of earth for man's abode was, to be sure, begun ; 
but when He set the sun in the heavens a higher stage 
of preparation began ; the sun is the great vitalizer of 
the world, and of itself has made life here possible. 
So when Christ ascended to the skies, His presence 

23 



354 



FAITH AND LIFE 



prepared a place for us. Near Him naught but 
beauty and holiness can be ; and if the physical sun 
has made the beauty and fruitfulness of this fair world, 
what must be the glory of that place where there is 
no need of the sun to shine in it, for the glory of God 
doth lighten it and the Lamb is the hght thereof! 
You have known houses, perhaps, that have been 
homes because of the presence in them of one beau- 
tiful, lovely character which has shed a moral beauty 
and attractiveness over the entire place, — its glory in 
life, its brightest memory in death. Similarly it is 
from Christ that the influence goes out which prepares 
* a place for us. 

Then, further. He went to prepare a place for us by 
going there as our representative. He is the Captain 
of our salvation, the first-fruits of them that slept. 
He went as our victorious Redeemer, our accepted 
Sacrifice, our crowned King. We should have no 
right to stand in the presence of the Almighty if Christ 
were not there as our Head. He prepares room for 
us among the angels, room near the throne of God. 
What are we, — sinful and frail, — that we should ex- 
pect to take our places among the unfallen hosts? 
We should not dare to hope for it if we did not know 
that by His presented sacrifice and by His glorious 
victory He has prepared a place for us. 

Still further, we may no doubt properly suppose 
that He went to prepare a place which shall be 



MANY MANSIONS 



355 



adapted in the highest degree to our needs. Of 
course, we do not know in what that adaptation shall 
consist. We do not often know beforehand what cir- 
cumstances, even in this w^orld, will be best adapted 
to us. We have to trust God to lead us to the places 
which are best for us ; and, wherever He puts us, there 
we must do the work demanded, beheving that the 
place is best. So we cannot say beforehand what the 
character of the place shall be where the perfect life of 
the future is to be passed. Yet we are sure that it 
will be adapted to our needs. God has adapted this 
world so w^ondrously to us that we cannot doubt 
that the future will be adjusted also. It will be a 
place of work, and at the same time of rest. It will be 
a place of growth, and at the same time of moral 
perfection. It will be a place of social relationships, 
and yet also of the highest individuality. So we 
might speculate. But speculation is useless. It is 
enough to know that a place shall be prepared for us, 
and, therefore, perfectly adjusted to every need. 

Finally, I feel confident that, as already intimated, 
we may extend the reach of these words on unto 
the end of the present dispensation, and include in 
them all that Christ is doing as King of the universe, 
as Heir of the future, to subdue all things unto Him- 
self and so unto His people. There are clear intima- 
tions in Scripture of physical changes by which nature 
herself will be tuned into sympathy with the song of 



356 



FAITH AND LIFE 



the glorified, and made to quiver, as she does not 
now, with the harmonies of redemption. We read: 
" The whole creation groaneth, and travaileth in pain 
together until now. And not only they, but ourselves 
also, which have the first-fruits of the Spirit, even we 
ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting for the adop- 
tion, to wit, the redemption of our body." We read : 
"We, according to His promise, look for a new 
heaven and a new earth, wherein dwelleth righteous- 
ness." We read : " We know that if our earthly 
house of this tabernacle be dissolved, we have a build- 
ing of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in 
the heavens." We are distinctly told that the dead 
are to be raised again and clothed with celestial 
bodies. Christ, therefore, is bringing about a changed 
universe, even as He is securing a changed race; 
and at the end it will appear that if we are prepared 
for a new world we shall find a new world prepared 
for us. Ah, what a sweep and what a sweetness there 
was in this assurance which He gave His disciples, 
" I go to prepare a place for you ! " We may take the 
words to ourselves. They were not meant for apostles 
alone, but for all disciples ; and while we gaze, dimly 
and tearfully, into the shadow of the grave, how wel- 
come the strong accents of the great Sufferer : " I go 
to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare 
a place for you, I will come again, and receive you 
unto Myself; that where I am, there ye may be also." 



MANY MANSIONS 



357 



So now, dear friends, let these words of Christ dwell 
richly in your hearts, comforting and inspiring you. 
Look beyond the narrow horizon of this world and 
believe that all the vast domain is still your Father's 
house, and that the soul that is reconciled to God can- 
not lose its way, can never perish, will always have its 
home. Believe in God, believe in Jesus Christ, and by 
your faith look death and separation in the face. It is 
but transition to another mansion in the same Father's 
house. You will find it so. Others have found it so. 
Christ declared it was so. Let us journey on, doing 
with our might what we find to do, thanking God for 
the beauty of this world, and for the salvation which 
He has sent us. Let us make that salvation ours, — 
and whenever our dear ones are called away, and, 
above all, when we ourselves receive the final call, let 
us think of these words of the Master, and be com- 
forted and be strong. " O death, where is thy sting ? 
O grave, where is thy victory ? . . . Thanks be to 
God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord 
Jesus Christ." 



XX 



THE JUDGMENT 

*< And the heavens shall declare His righteousness : for God is judge 
Himself." — Psalm 1. 6. 

The conviction that we are to be judged for the 
lives we spend on earth is so deeply impressed upon 
the human mind that it can hardly be a delusion. It 
is found, under various forms, in all religions. Now 
it is conceived as a formal sentence pronounced from 
a divine tribunal; now, as the result of laws which, 
by a natural process, distribute after death reward or 
punishment. But no reHgion is without the idea; 
and, indeed, we can hardly conceive of a religion, — if 
it be more than the feeblest sentiment, — existing with- 
out teaching that human lives are to be fairly and ex- 
actly judged. 

Probably this conviction is to be attributed to a 
variety of causes. It springs partly from the sense 
of responsibility which lies as a primary truth in the 
conscience of man. It springs partly also from the 
difference felt to exist between right and wrong; 
which, likewise, the human conscience proclaims, and 
which implies that a good life deserves reward, while a 
bad life deserves punishment. Another cause of this 

359 



360 



FAITH AND LIFE 



belief may be found in the observation that in this 
world justice is not perfectly meted out, so that the 
awards which conscience asserts ought to be given 
would not be given unless a further judgment follow 
after death. There is also the feeHng that if there be a 
God, He must be a Governor of the world. He would 
otherwise scarcely fulfil His name or office. He 
would be an idea without life if He did not now watch, 
and hereafter judge, the lives of His creatures. To 
this may be added the fact that even on earth there 
is an evident tendency of virtue to bless and of vice 
to curse; and while, on the one hand, the imperfect 
operation of this tendency calls for an adjustment of 
men's deserts after death, so, on the other, the ten- 
dency itself is an earnest and a prediction of such an 
adjustment to come. 

By the union of these instincts and observations 
and evident facts, the conviction of a judgment to 
come has fastened itself immovably in the human 
mind. Only a skepticism which would destroy all 
rehgion can set at naught so universal a belief; and 
even those men who hold as little as possible of re- 
ligion, and who entirely reject a revelation, seldom 
venture formally to deny a future judgment. 

This belief, moreover, is as exalting and inspiring as 
it is solemnizing. Instead of nature being like a hard, 
thick wall in which we are enclosed, it is made to 
appear like a globe of transparent glass through which 



THE JUDGMENT 



the infinite Father looks in upon our Hves. Instead of 
supposing that among the multitude of beings in which 
we occupy so small a place we shall be unobserved, 
we are assured that not one of us escapes the divine 
notice. This gives dignity to life. 

" A crowd of witnesses around 
Hold us in full survey." 

Above all, the sleepless eye of the great God be- 
holds us. Life is no obscure, worthless thing. It 
is being observed, estimated, and judged, and at the 
end its worth will be declared. While such a truth 
may fill us with shame in our hours of sin and weak- 
ness, it is no less the ally and support of all the nobler 
efforts that we make. 

Then the Bible confirms this belief in a divine 
judgment, and clarifies our conception of it. To 
it God is an ever-present reality. The darkness 
and the light are both alike to Him; and there is 
not a word on our lips but He knows it altogether. 
He, therefore, is "the Judge of all the earth." In 
the Old Testament we read of many historical judg- 
ments which in this world He has pronounced against 
nations and individuals; and in the New Testament we 
are told of the period when these shall culminate in a 
general judgment of all flesh. Men shall give account 
to Him for the deeds done in the body. Their lives 
shall be estimated according to the light they have 



362 



FAITH AND LIFE 



had. Each man shall give account of himself to God, 
and the result shall be to exhibit, in the sight of all 
the universe, the righteousness, and wisdom, and 
goodness, — in short, the glory, — of the Lord. 

This is the idea conveyed by the opening verses of 
the Psalm from which the text is taken. They mag- 
nificently describe the coming of God to judgment, and 
the solemnity of the scene is reflected in the majesty 
of the verse. " The mighty God . . . hath spoken, 
and called the earth from the rising of the sun unto 
the going down thereof" So the Psalm opens. He is 
the Lord worshiped by the Church, for it is out of 
Zion that God has shined. He is coming to utter His 
decisions. The fire of judgment plays about His 
throne. He will summon heaven and earth to hear. 
He will vindicate the faith of those who have believed 
His word. He will fulfil His covenant with them. 
He will reprove and condemn the rebellious and " the 
heavens shall declare His righteousness," the universe 
shall approve His decisions, for " God is judge Himself" 
No other, and none less, shall pass the sentence. It 
is His prerogative, — as He alone has the ability, — to 
judge the earth. The infinite Being who called the 
world into existence, and who is infinite, eternal, and 
unchangeable in His being and perfections. He shall 
estimate the worth, and assign the awards, to every 
human life. 

We have here, then, presented the character of God 



THE JUDGMENT 



as certifying to the rightfulness and the righteousness 
of the judgment to be passed on our hves. And I 
would remark, at the outset, that since " God is judge 
Himself," such judgment is a rightful thing. It ought 
to be. God has a right to judge us. Did another 
assume to do so, we might reasonably protest. But 
God is judge Himself, and before His tribunal we are 
bound to bow. 

It is not hard, indeed, to imagine men protesting 
against the whole situation. By what right are we 
to be thus interrogated? We repel the assumption 
which other men sometimes make of a right to judge 
our private affairs; and if we do not injure our fellows, 
and do not violate pubHc law, why should our 
thoughts and feelings, our private use of our own 
possessions, be investigated? The question is not an 
altogether unreasonable one. These are, indeed, like 
the poor foolish words of a school-boy who rebels 
against the authority which he cannot escape. When 
in sober moments men reflect upon the greatness of 
God, their wish for independence of Him seems vain 
indeed. Yet, if God merely overcame us by His 
superior power, we might protest though we were 
forced to yield. The question is one of right, not of 
power. By what right shall we be made to stand 
before His bar ? We are told that our own consciences 
will themselves approve His judgment, and yet men 
sometimes persuade themselves that conscience says 



3^4 



FAITH AND LIFE 



they ought to be independent. How, then, may God 
demand that all the dead, — small and great, learned 
and ignorant. Christian and pagan, man and child, of 
all ages and cHmes, — shall give account of themselves 
to Him ? By what right will He demand this of you 
and me? 

We reply, that He has the right to judge, simply 
because He is our Creator. Men often talk as if 
they had made themselves and were the authors of 
their own lives. One would think, from their pro- 
tests against God's government, that they had come 
under it by a sort of " social compact ;" as if they were 
independent beings who had generously consented to 
be subject to the divine authority. God seems to be 
to them Httle more than an elected monarch, and they 
would limit His rights and prerogatives until He had 
left no more authority than an EngHsh sovereign. 
But what are the facts? It is He that hath made 
us, and not we ourselves. He is the absolute and 
free Creator of the world and all that is therein. But 
for His will we would not have been at all. He called 
nature into being; He made and gave us our minds. 
As truly as the potter makes the earthen jar, has 
God made us. Yea, He has made not only the form, 
but the material itself We need not discuss the 
method of creation. We may admit all you choose of 
second causes and slow developments. Still, the 
power before and behind all is God's will. He created 



THE JUDGMENT 



matter ; He created mind ; and over the evolution of 
matter, and over the development of mind, He has 
presided. He was under no compulsion to create, 
though, doubtless. He found pleasure in so doing. 
He is, in the most absolute sense, the author of 
all beings. Creatorship, and especially such an abso- 
lute creatorship as this, carries with it ownership, 
— the Creator's right of property in the creature of 
His hand. 

You can partially illustrate this by the similar 
right of property as it exists among men. A man 
may, in a limited sense, make his own fortune, and 
when made, it is his. He can use it as he sees 
fit. He can hoard, or he can waste. Or, to take 
an illustration more in point, a man may make, 
in a certain sense, a business for himself By his 
industry, by his ability, he may build it up. It 
is his, and he is the absolute director of its affairs. 
Has he not then the right to examine and inquire into 
the work done by his employees ? Are they not 
working for him ? Does not their time and strength, 
so far as they are employed, belong to him ? Shall 
they protest against his inquiry into and watchful- 
ness over his own business ? Does not the same 
principle apply far more cogently to God ? Because 
He has made us, we are His. The earth is the 
Lord's, and the fullness thereof, all that it produces, 
all that has in the flight of years come out of it, — and 



366 



FAITH AND LIFE 



why ? Because He has founded it upon the seas and 
estabhshed it upon the flood. As the employer ques- 
tions his servant, as the father questions his child, as an 
owner has a right to inquire about and to rule in the 
management of his own possessions, so may we say 
that God, — the free, the real author and owner of 
human life, — has a right to watch, investigate, judge, 
and deal with the creatures He has made. 

You will say, perhaps. True, if we were mere inani- 
mate things : but we are moral beings ; and while God 
has, indeed, created us, we have, when once created, 
our rights and liberties no less truly than He has His 
rights and powers. You will say, perhaps, that while 
a father has the right to question and direct his child, 
this is only so long as the latter is a child; when he 
becomes of age he asserts his own independence. 
Why does not the same independence belong to man 
in his relation to his Father in the heavens ? 

But you must not press one side of the divine char- 
acter so far as to obscure the rest. God is our Father, 
but He is also our Creator, and our King, and our 
Master. His paternity is not so much after our 
modern idea as like that of the old Roman theory. 
The Roman father owned his child as though it 
were a chattel till the day of his own death. He had 
even the power of life and death over it. He was 
absolute master and judge in his whole household. 
This is more Hke God's position. For while He has 



THE JUDGMENT 



all love and tenderness, which the Roman often lacked, 
He has all the authority which the Roman claimed. 
I admit, indeed, that our moral natures may give us 
some rights and liberties even as regards God. We 
may have the right to fair trial. We may have the 
right to just treatment. We may have the liberty, if 
we choose, of rebellion : but the right of rebelHon we 
have not. God, I say, has made us ; He owns us ; 
and, therefore. He is our lawful Ruler and lawful 
Judge. Before Him we are bound to bow. Con- 
science and reason, as well as religion, uphold His 
august tribunal. As creatures, we must give our 
account to Him. He has the right to make inqui- 
sition as to what we are, to examine how we have 
lived, to deal out to us what we know that we deserve. 

We maintain, therefore, the rightfulness of God's 
judgment because God is the Creator and Lord of 
the world. " God is judge Himself" We would 
repudiate many a judgment of man. If God were 
a mere unconscious force, it, too, would have no 
such right, even as it could not exercise it. But 
by all our conviction of a personal, free author of 
the world, may we be sure that the judgment which 
conscience leads us to expect, and which revela- 
tion so clearly teaches, is right and proper : and 
against such right, united with such power, how vain 
must be man's anger and rebellion ! What are they 
like, but the dashing of waves against everlasting 



368 



FAITH AND LIFE 



rock, which only break themselves, and fall into the 
sea again ? 

But more important to us than the rightfulness is the 
righteousness of this divine judgment. It may comfort 
us to know that the trial which we cannot escape is a 
lawful one ; but it will add to our comfort to know 
that it will be just and fair. And this is certified by 
our text again. " The heavens shall declare his right- 
eousness : for God is judge Himself" He committed 
it to no angel, nor mere man ; for they would not be 
qualified for the work. Only God Himself can be a 
righteous judge of human lives. 

And this because He, and He alone, is omniscient. 
Of course, we cannot comprehend omniscience, and, 
therefore, we fail to realize God's exact knowledge of 
all that exists or occurs. We can only make ap- 
proaches to such a conception, and by the aid of 
analogies realize, at least, how incomprehensible omnis- 
cience is, and yet what some of its consequences are. 
We can only use figures which represent, though they 
do not picture, this unknown quantity. 

Perhaps we may partly realize the meaning of 
omniscience by means of its equal mystery, omni- 
presence. God knows everything because God is al- 
ways everywhere. He is as truly and as fully present 
at the farthest verge of creation as at its centre in the 
heavens. It is not that He can, with piercing eye, see 
all that happens at any distance, but that there is no 



THE JUDGMENT 



such thing as distance from Him. It is not that He is 
Lord of innumerable agents, who with Hghtning speed 
report events before His throne, but that the whole 
universe lies before Him as distinctly as the field of 
vision under the strongest microscope does to the 
student's eye. It is not that, like the mind in the 
body. He is in nervous, vital connection with the 
whole vast frame of creation, but that in every mem- 
ber thereof the divine mind is actually resident. 
Whatever lives and moves and has being does so in 
Him, in His immediate presence, because of His sup- 
porting power; and it costs my eye more effort to 
glance at yonder page than it costs the infinite One 
to observe at all times, every movement, of matter or 
of mind, that occurs in all the universe. There are 
forces of nature which seem to us almost omni- 
present. It needs but about eight minutes for the 
light to flash over the ninety-three millions of miles 
which separate us from the sun. Yet light and elec- 
tricity are but ministers of His that do His pleasure. 
They speed across space; while He is at the same 
moment in all space, — in sun, and stars, and world. 

" The Lord our God is Lord of all ; 

His station who can find ? 
I hear him in the waterfall, 

I hear him in the wind. 
If in the gloom of night I shroud. 

His face I cannot fly ; 
I see him in the evening cloud 

And in the morning sky." 

24 



FAITH AND LIFE 



Thus may we picture God's omnipresence, and by 
it, His omniscience. He knows you and me thor- 
oughly, has known us from the first dawn of our con- 
sciousness ; and not only us, but as exactly, all these 
multitudes of our fellow citizens, yea, not them more 
than all our fellow-men. He has searched us and 
known us. He knows our down-sitting and our up- 
rising. He understands our thoughts afar off. Such 
knowledge is too wonderful for us, but not for Him. 
If I say, the darkness shall cover me, surely the 
night shall be light about me. The darkness and 
the light are both ahke to Him. Thus, you see, the 
foundation for a righteous judgment is laid in per- 
fect knowledge of all that we have been and have 
done. There can be no mistakes. There can be 
no evidence omitted. God's judgment must be in- 
fallible, because He knows us altogether. 

Then you must add to this exact knowledge of us 
individually, the knowledge of the part which each of 
us was designed to occupy in the world. You may 
know with great precision the facts of a man's life, and 
yet you may wholly misjudge him because you do 
not measure him by the right standard ; you do not 
estimate him by his circumstances, or by the place he 
was meant to fill. But let us not suppose that because 
God is in every place, He does not grasp in one view 
the whole creation. He made it all. He knows what 
it is to produce. He knows the part which each ele- 



THE JUDGMENT 37 1 

ment plays in the work of the whole; and He judges 
it by that assigned role. I say this knowledge of the 
whole world is as necessary to a just judgment as the 
knowledge of each part. Otherwise there might be as 
false an estimate as if you were to say that a pound of 
lead and a pound of gold are of the same value. Do 
they not both weigh a pound ? Truly : but not their 
weight but the part which each plays in human society 
determines their value. So it is conceivable that men 
might be alike in all ordinary respects, while their 
places in the world would cause the judgment in one 
case to differ from that in the other. Well, then, may 
we rejoice that " God is judge Himself." No angel 
could pronounce sentence ; none but He who is in- 
finite in knowledge could insure to men, in view of the 
multitudinous facts and realities of life, righteous judg- 
ment. 

Now, in one view, the righteousness of God is an 
appalling fact, and were men to be saved or lost 
according to the estimate of mere justice upon their 
lives, sad indeed would be their lot. If you choose to 
take your stand at the bar without the plea which 
Christ, the great Advocate, will enter in your behalf, 
your condemnation is certain. But to the believer in 
Jesus, the righteousness of God is full of promise; 
and when we consider it in all its meaning, we rejoice 
in appearing before Him rather than before any other. 
The Scriptures do not fail to bring out its encour- 



372 



FAITH AND LIFE 



aging side. His judgment is to be, we are told, ac- 
cording to the light men have had. Men's circum- 
stances will determine their responsibility. The knowl- 
edge of truth they have possessed, the surroundings 
in which they have been reared, the character of the 
temptations to which they have been exposed, and the 
causes which give these their power, — such are some 
of the determining elements, we may suppose, of this 
judgment; and you can easily imagine how, on such 
principles, it will often reverse the judgments which 
men pass upon each other. Then, too, God's judg- 
ment will be as kind as is consistent with righteous- 
ness. Every earnest soul has the divine sympathy, 
and God watches and appreciates every effort to do 
right, even though it may seem to fail. " He knoweth 
our frame ; He remembereth that we are dust." 

This is further certified by the revealed fact that 
Christ, — the God-man, — is to be our judge. He 
unites all that we have said of omniscience with all that 
we can desire of sympathy. He has Himself known 
human life. He has been tempted as we are : and, there- 
fore, when Christ shall gather before His bar the na- 
tions of earth, the consciences of men will unite with 
the heavens in declaring His righteousness. Not only 
will God Himself be judge, but God in man will 
be judge; and what there may be of God in other 
men will approve and applaud His sentence. Yes, 
righteousness and judgment are the habitations of His 



THE JUDGMENT 



373 



throne. The sceptre of righteousness is the sceptre in 
His hand. Not only is it right that He should call us 
to account ; but most fair, most impartial, most com- 
prehensive, will the decision be. Every mouth will be 
stopped; no complaint will be possible. No wrong, 
not even the slightest, will be done. Not an element 
that may help to solve the problem will have been for- 
gotten. God is the judge Himself, and that fact as- 
sures the perfect righteousness of His summing up of 
every human life. 

It would seem clearly to follow from all this that 
the divine judgment is to be final. So it is com- 
monly and instinctively conceived by men, both in 
and out of Christendom ; and, from what we have said, 
it is evident why it must be final. There can be no 
reason for an appeal from God's decision. There is no 
court to which such an appeal could be taken. God is 
now the judge Himself, and, if so, we are at the end 
of things. The balances are being struck. The 
period of probation is over. The results have been 
attained, and thenceforward the consequences unalter- 
ably follow. 

The question has been raised, it is true, as to the 
limits of man's probation. It has of late been fre- 
quently maintained that most people have not in this 
world a fair chance. Multitudes die in ignorance of the 
gospel. In Christendom itself multitudes live in such 
circumstances that the faith and morality of Chris- 



374 



FAITH AND LIFE 



tians cannot be expected of them. The difference be- 
tween the advantages of some and the disadvantages 
of others, it is said, is so marked that it would be un- 
reasonable to suppose probation to be limited to this 
life. Hence it is argued that another chance — or per- 
haps it would be best to say a fair chance — must be 
given in the next world. Not a few, indeed, would 
deny any limit to probation, and maintain that when- 
ever men shall repent and turn to God, though it be 
in hell itself, He will. He must, receive them. 

The view of Scripture truth which we have presented 
would, however, certainly refute these delusive hopes. 
It is as clear as day that if the Scriptures mean any- 
thing at all, they mean that probation has a definite, 
fixed limit. " He hath appointed a day in the which 
He will judge the world in righteousness by that 
man whom He hath ordained." God is very patient. 
He has put the day of decision a long way off, that 
by His forbearance He may lead men to repent- 
ance. But that appointed day will come. Then God 
will be judge Himself, and the majesty of that tri- 
bunal is such as to preclude any after it. It must be 
the final summing up. It is the Supreme Court. 
From it there can be no appeal. Not only are we 
clearly taught this general fact, but we are taught just 
as clearly the correlated fact that the probation of each 
man does end with this life. It is human life, here in 
the flesh, whose worth is to be passed upon. Man 



THE JUDGMENT 



375 



shall give account to Him for the deeds done in the 
body. On these will turn the sentence. 

How, then, you say, about the inequalities between 
men ? How can all be said to have had here a fair 
chance, when one dies at fifteen and another at sev- 
enty; when one is reared in ignorance and another in 
the light of a Christian home? Surely, what has 
been said about the righteousness of God and His 
omniscience will remove such a difficulty ! God will 
take into consideration every circumstance. Not sel- 
dom will those, I conceive, who seem to us to have 
had the fewest advantages, be better off than those 
who have had more. It would have been better 
for many men to have died in their boyhood, since 
they were nearer to the kingdom at twenty than ever 
after. " The publicans and harlots," said Jesus to the 
Pharisees, " enter the kingdom before you." 

There is in all men some light. All hear the voice 
of conscience. It may be a misguided conscience, but 
yet it is enough to reveal the moral choice of the indi- 
vidual's life. It is not necessary that men should know 
the whole truth in order to ascertain their love of truth. 
It is not necessary that men should know perfect 
goodness in order to ascertain their wish for or against 
it. The flower and fruits of character alike lie in the 
germ ; and He who, as we have seen, is able perfectly 
to estimate the worth of every life, will win the appro- 
bation of the universe in His estimate of the humblest 



376 



FAITH AND LIFE 



and obscurest not less than of the highest and best. 
" God is judge Himself," and therefore judgment is 
final. It could not be improved upon. No more wis- 
dom, or knowledge, or goodness, can be obtained. 
Man is standing before His Maker ; the allotted time 
of trial has been finished; infinite love and goodness 
will unite with infinite hoHness and truth to exhibit 
perfect righteousness. " The books " may now be 
opened ; as many as have sinned with law shall also 
perish with law; and as many as have sinned in the 
law shall be judged by the law. For this is the day 
in which God shall judge the secrets of men by Jesus 
Christ," and " the heavens shall declare His righteous- 
ness, for He is judge Himself." 

I know that, shrouded as we are by the material 
world, and busy as we are with present interests, it is 
hard to believe in this divine inspection of our lives ; 
hard to credit that we shall ever appear before our God. 
But now and then flashes of faith, voices of conscience, 
revelations in prayer, make us aware of what we see 
not. The spirit in man proclaims a higher destiny 
than the grave. Christ speaks words that ought to 
end all doubt. Be, therefore, not deceived. Remember 
the sleepless eye. Remember the unseen presence. 
What may now appear to you terrible, will give com- 
fort and joy, if once you love Him. Remember that 
we have a great High Priest. If any man sin, we have 
an Advocate. Give your case to Him; and when at 



THE JUDGMENT 



177 



last you take your place before God, you will find 
yourself accepted and saved, because Christ pleads for 
you His blood ; and for every effort you have made to 
serve Him, you will receive your reward. " God is 
judge Himself," and He has said that he who beheves 
in Jesus shall not come into condemnation, but has 
passed from death unto life. By all the peril which 
yawns before us, by all the hopes of immortality we 
possess, by all the words of Him who is true, I be- 
seech you, in this your day of probation, to turn to 
Christ the Saviour. Then the day of judgment will 
be your day of coronation, and earth's probation will 
end for you in heaven's eternal life. 



WAV 16 1902 



MAY 16 1902 

MAY 16 1902 



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